#man kills friend mumbai

[allamericanfinalgirl]

(TW; Assault, Sexual Harassment)

(PART TWO)

“Good Morning.”

A dark-haired young man wrapped his hands with tape as he listened to the news anchor on the kaleidoscope of multicolored TV screens bearing the morning news.

“This is Ari Arya with Mumbai in the Morning, and it’s about time you fell in love with something that will love you back.”

In the dingy back rooms of an underground arena, the fighters prepared for their matches in various ways, shadowboxing in the corner and rubbing chalky powder on their biceps and hands.

A fighter who went by ‘The Kid’ preferred watching the news, even if it was a doom viewing of the state of the world as of late.

But Ari Arya somehow had a way of making the worst of life work out.

In a pink and white gingham skirt, long, curled hair, and a bright sheen of lip gloss, Ari was quickly becoming the city’s TV sweetheart.

“And that, my friends, is the news.” Kid liked Ari’s Bengal accent; it added a unique lilt to her pronunciation that he was obsessed with. “It doesn't judge you, and neither will I.” If the side of his face wasn’t throbbing, Kid would have smiled.

-

Blood sprayed the tarp-covered floor; Kid grunted and rolled with the impact when his back hit the exposed springs and splintered wood. The wind got knocked from his lungs. ‘Fuck!’ He hissed through his mask, popping to his feet, only to be knocked back down again with three times the force.

A plum hoodie caught Kid’s eye as he went down. Normally, it wouldn’t have mattered, but it was in a shade and style uncommon to his area of the city.

Ari had heard whispers of an illegal underground ring in Yatana: a fighter in a black monkey mask coined ‘The Beast.’ His arms, chest, and bandaged hands were smeared with chalk.

Men were fighting in the streets to earn their pay, women and their children treated like second class citizens, the elderly begging for food and sleeping on benches.

Ari didn’t think it was fair, how she was forced to zip around the news station with a stack of papers and coffees, forced to give every man that pinched her thighs and made lewd comments a bubbly smile as they tugged on the curled end of her ponytail.

Ari wanted to tear back the technicolor curtain and make a change for the better for her city. It was unfair how the elite got to recline back in their high rises under the guise of “spiritual leading” and other shady goings on.

The sound of the crowd chanting; “KILL The Beast, KILL The Beast!” Echoing the arena as The Beast went down, Ari had to cover her ears from the sound of his pained cries as he was beaten down into the floor.

After a countdown, The Beast rolled off the mat and landed hard on the ground, breaking a table underneath him as he fell.

Coughing up blood through his mask, Kid dragged himself through the dirt floor until he could crawl to his feet and limp away while the crowd booed and jeered at him, wincing at the rotten food and cigars thrown into his path.

So, there Ari was, following an illegal underground fighter as he limped down the basement tunnels of the arena. The Beast did not remove his mask once, even as he left the arena and embraced the humid Yatana air.

In Ari’s effort to remain unseen, she trailed too far behind The Beast and lost him in the maze of alleyways. It wasn’t the first time this had happened; on the bright side, she was getting closer to finding his place of residency.

Kid winced as he took a running start, jumping up, hooking his bruised and bloodied fingers around the rungs of the fire escape. He pulled himself up with a pained grunt, to the first platform, and began to climb the iron bars to the top of the building. Like always, he disappeared over the edge.

Ari sighed and tugged on the front of her hoodie in frustration, turning to go back the way she came when her blood ran cold; A man, blocking her from street view.

Kid was stretching on a rooftop when he heard the unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream muffled, followed by the shuffling of feet and a thump. Kid’s feet moved fast, dropping down from the building, back into the alley below.

The plum hoodie was on the ground next to a broken phone; Kid followed the trail to a man surrounding a young woman.

Kid clenched his fists so tightly he could feel his wounds reopening as he walked up from behind and yanked the man into the shadows.

Shouts in Hindi echoed in the dark, with the sound of sick, wet blows to the face and body.

Ari watched the silhouette of a masked man as he lifted her assailant off of his feet and slammed him head-first into the pavement.

The man scrambled to his feet and swung out at The Beast, only angering The Monkey Man further as he snapped his head back to avoid the strike to the throat.

His rage back with a vengeance; Before the assailant had a chance to recover, The Beast had managed his time window to send an elbow into his face, rocking his body just enough to use the momentum.

Unlike this man who relied on brute strength to incapacitate his weaker victims, Kid was used to fighting bigger opponents.

The Beast snarled at the assailant and pounded on his chest. Realizing that fighting The Beast or robbing the girl wasn’t worth it, he retreated down the alley, leaving Ari alone with The Beast.

“Please!” She held her scratched and bloodied arms up. “I-“ Ari realized she didn’t want to beg for her life.

Climbing to her feet, Ari felt a sudden wave of nausea when The Beast turned away. Even with the mask on, he shielded his eyes as she pulled her torn shirt to cover herself.

“Are you hurt?” The Beast’s voice was muffled through his mask, hands trembling and dripping with blood.

“I can point you to a nearby clinic.” He was shaking with rage at what the man had nearly done to the young woman; Blonde hair plastered to her face in a mix of rainwater and blood from a cut upon her forehead.

If he hadn’t saved her, what would have happened? Ari noticed The Beast clenching and unclenching his fists, a perfect picture of a tense young man.

“I understand if you want to go and find the authorities, but I want to clean you up.” She felt heat rise in her face, and she sensed he had realized his accidental implication. “Sorry-“

“Okay.” Ari sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as The Beast retreated in the shadows and returned with her plum hoodie folded up in his hands, her belongings placed gently atop it.

“Thank you.” She whispered, taken aback by his gentleness as The Beast took her back to the fire escape, grunting as he pulled the ladder to the pavement and gestured for Ari to climb.

Guiding Ari to the top of the building, Kid cast a cautionary glance around before driving his shoulder into the fire escape door, guiding Ari inside to a tiny room he had made up inside. A mattress with blankets strewn about, a tiny radio, and cans of discarded food.

Lifting the mattress, Kid swiped away a magazine cover of Ari he kept folded up and pulled out a first aid kit, wetting a piece of fabric with a water bottle before gently wiping the blood from Ari’s face, neck, arms, and legs.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, running a bandaged thumb over a scar on her forearm. “God will see those men pay for their sins.”

‘A Religious?’ It wasn’t unheard of in India. Ari found herself thinking it was unfair to assume The Beast wasn’t a man of God because he let himself get the hell beaten out of him by men twice his size all hours of the evening.

“Thank you for saving my life.” Ari began to open her purse, searching for money to give him, when he gently placed a hand atop her own.

“I don’t need charity.” The Beast murmured, shaking his head as he applied anesthetic to her forehead, “I need your word.”

Ari swore she could see big brown eyes staring intensely through the eyes of The Monkey Man’s mask. “You never saw me. We never met. The arena does not exist.” Ari closed her eyes in disappointment; if she did, that meant no story.

“I can’t.” She shook her head resolutely, holding her chin up high. “India deserves to know what its people are resorting to to get by. Beating each other to bloody pulps for an earning, is that what we’ve come to? Behaving like-“

“Beasts?” The masked man finished, his voice low and even. “We could help each other.” Ari offered, throwing all her cards on the table and cautioning against the wind.

“Tell me your story.” The journalist side of her leapt out, despite her near-death experience.

Staring at each other, a silent but furious conversation between Ari and The Beast ensued through tense looks and clenched fists. ‘Fuck It.’

The Monkey Man acquiesced.

“What do you want to know?” Despite the traumatic experience, Ari felt a hopeful smile tug at the corner of her lips as she held up a small, hand-held recorder.

The Beast watched Ari click the device and a red light began to blink.

‘Recording.’

“Tell me everything.” Ari recorded hours of conversation, and when she finished it was daybreak. Despite his protests, Ari left behind money for The Beast.

As Ari began to gather her things, she didn’t notice Kid slyly nick her lip gloss and travel-size flute of perfume.

“I can’t thank you enough.” They stood together under a street lamp. “Anyway,” Ari bit her lip, wishing he would remove his mask.

Nodding to each other, Ari and The Beast were desperate not to tear their gaze away from one another.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

-

Ari stared dead-eyed ahead. Nothing on the planet was worse than the sound of her male colleagues' voices bouncing off one another, singing each other’s praises.

“Smile!” One of the older executives insisted, tugging at the corner of Ari’s lips with his sausage-like fingers.

It was a sick affair. Ari had gotten looped with an upper-level executive who set his sights on her from day one and would not let up. Now, it was either attending every menial event on the arm of the executive or losing her job.

‘Kings’ was the tower club that rose above the Mumbai skyline. Ari hated it there, how the other women were exploited like caged animals for the men to toy with, how much opulence overflowed from the tower in the form of drugs, sex, and money.

Ari had spent enough time at ‘King’s’ to notice the change in staff.

Raven hair that was curly in almost a prince-like way, large, unmistakably scarred hands; Wide brown eyes that held a lost look as if he were searching for his Mother in the market, but almost as if…He was letting the world see that.

Almost as if he were hiding something.

‘Bobby.’ Read his name tag; Ari scrunched her nose at that, if it was the right setting, she would have laughed.

“You don’t look like a ‘Bobby’.” It must’ve been the champagne the studio exec insisted Ari try, or otherwise she would not have said that comment aloud.

The waiter stared at her intently, as if he had seen her before.

Ari was perplexed before realizing he probably recognized her from the news, and then embarrassment snuck into her demeanor from being caught in such a place.

“She’s a pretty face!” Ari’s studio executive excused her comment with a laugh, painfully squishing her cheeks between his fingers.

It took everything in Kid not to break the man’s arm in two. “Excuse me.”

The waiter made himself scarce; Ari’s dark eyes surveilled him like a hawk as she watched him disappear through the kitchen’s double doors. “Excuse me.” She said as well, primly dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “I need to powder my nose.”

Heels clicking echoed in the alley, The Kid’s head snapped up, dark brown eyes locking on an angel from on high. “Hello.”

Shooting to his feet, Bobby’s cheeks were red, hiding his hands behind his back.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Bobby tried to sidestep Ari and return to his job when she stopped him with a small hand against his broad chest. “Wait!” She dug into the tiny pink clutch that ‘The Beast’ had returned to her the evening before. “Can I ask your point of view, working here at the King’s?”

Bobby stared mutely at the recording device in the palm of her hand. “I know you could lose your job and I don’t want to jeopardize your position here.” She hated how hard it was to look professional in a pink mini-dress and high heels made by a man who hated women.

Ari felt her heart drop when Bobby mutely shook his head ‘No.’ She could see he was apologetic.

Bobby gestured for Ari to go back inside, but she only frowned dejectedly. “Don’t make me go back in there.”

It was like a shark tank and Ari was a tiny fish staring up at their grinning barbed teeth.

“Please.” She begged, tears filling her brown eyes.

Sighing, Kid disappeared through the kitchen doors, leaving her alone.

Surprised, Ari hugged herself as she looked around the alley, tear-filled eyes landing on a tiny yellow dog that had trotted into view.

“Hyālō praṇaẏī. (Hello Sweetheart).” Ari cooed, kneeling and holding out her palm for the dog’s tiny brown nose to sniff at.

The kitchen doors swung open and Bobby came down the steps with a tiny plate. “I told them a waiter spilled wine on you, you’re in the coat room getting cleaned up.” He said, handing her a slice of chocolate cake he had nicked from the dessert cooler.

“You’re not afraid of anything, are you?”

Ari snorted and gave Bobby a sidelong glance. “I’m afraid of everything.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, resisting the slice of cake for precisely two seconds before swiping her finger through the frosting. “I’m not allowed to be afraid if I want this career.”

“What are you afraid of?” The Kid smirked at that, rubbing his jawline, letting the mask slip.

“You ask a lot of questions.” He picked a chocolate chip off the cake and popped it in his mouth. There was something about the look on his face that said ‘You don’t want to know the things I’m afraid of.’

“Anyways. Someone has to do it. Because if I don’t; who will?” Bobby looked at Ari with hollow eyes.

‘Someone hurt you.’ Ari glanced at his hands, burn marks scarred his large palms, she wondered what they would feel like against her skin.

“Tell me one thing then,” Ari’s pink press on nail pushed on the little gold name tag pinned to his chest. “Bobby, why are you here?”

“I’m returning a favor.”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hello! I sent this to vinelle and she said you've already seen it, so, thoughts on the new spiderverse? Do you have a favorite spiderperson? Thanks!

I have seen it.

Well, the thing is, as usual, I don't think you'll like my thoughts.

Also, putting in a read more as this is a fairly recent movie that I assume people don't want to be spoiled on.

It had fantastic animation, great art style, interesting designs for all the characters in a myriad of different styles. Wonderful diversity of the cast and universes. It's also nice to see what our heroes are getting up to after the last film, how all their problems weren't solved and they're still in much the same messes as ever.

However, for me, it's much weaker than the first film and not just because we get a "WAIT UNTIL PART TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO".

First, for the part two bit, we get that this is a build-up film to whatever the next film is. We only introduce the problems and don't really get around to resolving them. We spend so much time between spider HQ and evil spot man that we don't focus on either as villains enough to really justify the time spent on either. Peter B Parker suffers a similar fate in that he just kind of... shows up with a baby. He's clearly comic relief again, but there's a very large question of why he's here and why he's doing what he's doing when he has about two seconds on screen to justify himself then uh change his mind, I guess. And from what we saw of part one, while we had some great fight scenes, I'm not sure they all justify what will ultimately be around a 4 hour runtime for both films.

The other bit is that it's a movie that... kind of gets the characters to do what it wants them to do. It's a hard sell for me to tell me that all the Spidermen (except for Myles) are getting together to make every other Spiderman's life miserable because one Spider Vampireman blames a teenage kid for the universe collapsing. Miguel comes off absolutely unhinged and I'm hard pressed to believe that most, if any, of the Spiderpeople we see recruited go along with this (when their role isn't so much to save people and help out other Spiderverses but make sure Uncle Ben dies horribly). We get a lot of justification for Gwen in that her life was falling apart, she'd lost her father completely as well as her only friends, and this gives her purpose and a found family. However, Peter? Peter who is an adult with a child and watching out for his own universe?

We also know of at least one universe that has survived without a Spiderman that is supposed to have a Spiderman (looking at you 42) so... why do they all assume the universe collapses if Spiderman doesn't do the same things in exactly the right order. Perhaps there's proof offscreen, but what happened to New Mumbai (especially given Spot was fucking with a particle collider) doesn't read as proof for me. Especially not for in universe characters.

It's also a bit strange when, from the last film, the point was that all the Spiderpeople are choosing to be Spiderpeople in a very individualistic manner that... doesn't lend itself to these people forming an HQ making decisions they don't agree with.

Myles even brings this up. Why is Hobie involved if he doesn't like what they're doing? Hobie never answers this then uh... leaves when it's convenient for him to do so because the plot said so.

Now, this one might get me killed if the rest hasn't already, but while I loved the animation itself the way it happens in the film is often a bit much. Don't get me wrong, it has great style and I love this age of artistic vision we're entering with animation. However, there was often too much on screen at any given moment (and this is the case with both the style and the dialogue). We'd get rapid fire quippy dialogue as the screen whirls past us, five things are happening at once, and as a result it's almost exhausting to watch. There were a lot of parts of the movie (the Lego Movie reference for example) that felt thrown in to show off artistic prowess as well as to make a gimmicky reference the audience will like. The issue isn't that they're there at all, but that there's so damn many of them. Add into that that we're already in a two-part film and I start to wonder if we couldn't have cut a lot of this.

To sum up though, don't get me wrong, I thought it was good and easily one of the best animated films I've seen in years. I will absolutely see the continuation film. I would still recommend people go see it but I'd tell you that if you're in it for story more so than art maybe just stick to the first one.

As for my favorite spiderpeople? You've come to the wrong blog. But I suppose I'll pick Peter B, you good old comic relief guru homeless man. He didn't do much in this film, but he was my favorite from the last one.

[the-heaminator]

Had some motivation to draw your Kashmir OC, and I know it’s not the best but I enjoyed drawing her lol :)

AAAAA OMG THA K YOU YHABK YOU THANK YOU QWQ I NEVER THOUGHT ANYONE ELSE WOULD WANT MY OC THAT EVEN I SOMETKMES FORGET ABOUT. SHES SO PRETTY OMG

SO HERE ARE EXPANDED KASHMIR HCS they were meant to be hcs but kinds if got out of control

She is short, 5'3 only, and pretty slight all things considered, unlike Haryana. Who for that matter always absolutely stuffs her if she ever comes over because Punjab needs backup bc Haryana is in her shit shit shit I need to feed everyone stage which happens at least once ever 2 to 3 years.

Speaking of her relationship with Punjab, which is to be fair one of the only things I have fleshed out here, they get along in the way that the enemy of ky enemy is my friend but in a joking way, ish, neither particularly want to be part of India, both have strong separatists movements (I personally have severe beef with both movements but thafs just personal reasons) they both have a history of religious violence, incredible pain during the partition (what used to be punjab before the partition was much much larger, and a lot of it got split into pakistani punjab, his sister, who is constantly sick and not having a good time)

idk I think he might have tried to substitute his sister with Kashmir, who has a brother of her own, Jammu, who has the capital for half the year and she has it for the rest, he cares for her deeply, and has ended up caring for punjab a lot too because that man is fucking lost and he needs help.

The three have a type of "Oh shit you're nearly as fucked up as I am going on." They all got fucked severely by the partition, thus having too many seperationist movements, religious conflict, not so great infrastructure and a general hatred towards the main government.

J&Ks infrastructure has gotten a lot better in the past decade, it is no longer a state per se since 2019, union territory but shut up, apparently when my mum got married you couldn't even reliably drive a car because the roads were so bad you would kill the suspension in a moment so horses were still main modes of transport, this wasn't even that long ago, late 90s early 2000s.

Which is a shame, J&K is so fucking pretty, natural beauty a plenty, mountains and all, and comparatively to places like dehli, Mumbai amritsar etc Srinagar is very, very clean, she feeds all the stray dogs, she has befriended them, I hc her to have one, a Bakherwal (?) Dog, very friendly to most people, has particular beef with India and China, they know its personal, he is spoiled rotten by Jammu and punjab who keeps on giving him roti.

Both Jammu and Kashmir have a fondness for mutton and chicken, they eat so much rice that its not even funny, so much bloody rice. They are not good at making dhaal but make very good sabjis. But make them wet bc they eat it with fucking rice (I'm sorry I'm pissed that my dad manages to make aloo gobi a fucking curry how di you do that??)

anyhow I might elaborate on these later. Maybe

[darkmaga-returns]

Your daily dose of natural disasters and amazing phenomena for October 20, 2024...

Strange Sounds

Mars on the left, Earth on the right…

Fun fact: The rovers on mars were first tested in the Atacama desert in Chile and Argentina. In parts of the desert it is so dry there that not even bacteria can grow…

The accuracy…

The funny thing is, we all know it but do it anyway…

That meme made me lol…

Could a large-scale cyber attack be imminent?

Guess we'll see what happens. If internet goes down.. well.......... that would suck… Just be prepared in case something happens…

The Eye of God - A stunning deep space nebula…

The Helix Nebula, sometimes referred to as the 'Eye Of God Nebula', is an object known as a planetary nebula located 650 lightyears away and seen in the constellation Aquarius.

It is a dying star that's running out of fuel, ejecting its outer layers into space and producing a large, puffed-out structure.

Hmm wonder what’s on the other side of the eye, the blue part. Looks like paradise…

Wow. That is incredible. Brilliant capture… Mumbai, India…

A new Stoker dropped before Winds of Winter…

Dracula author Bram Stoker's lost story unearthed after 134 years…

HEY FRIENDS! PLEASE SUPPORT MY WORK! THANKS YOU!

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Saudi Crown Prince MBS’s dream project Neom is racing towards completion at such speed that it alone is consuming 20% of the worlds steel…

Stop the steal…

Australia: Funeral home owner accused of keeping a woman’s corpse in the back of a hearse for over a year…

Meanwhile, a funeral home in Poland apologised after corpse falls out of a hearse and into traffic…

Authorities said at least seven people were killed Saturday when part of a ferry dock collapsed on Georgia's Sapelo Island, where crowds had gathered for a fall celebration by the island's tiny Gullah-Geechee community of Black slave descendants.

Two stories... the tragedy of the collapse of the ferry gang plank, and the history of these Black separatist islands. And a third story of homes being sold (increased taxes) as vacation homes... not a good sign, of course…

Harvard scientists unveil a new AI model for cancer diagnosis, 96% accuracy!

Cool, now where's our free treatment that doesnt make us drain our children's college fund, lose our savings, go bankrupt, sell our house, and live on the streets?

It's in Canada, the UK, Australia, France... Well, almost all European countries… Really! Even China, and most of the civilized world... Sorry friend.

Bad luck being sick in America…

10 million people plunge into darkness as Cuba’s grid collapses…

Sounds like you will soon get 10 million more immigrants coming to America...

A rare 237-year-old copy of the US Constitution has been sold at auction for a whopping $9m (£7m).MORE…

The copy was printed in 1787 after delegates from the colonial states met for the Constitutional Convention and drafted what would become the founding document of the US federal government.

There are believed to be only eight copies like this one left in existence, and seven of them are publicly owned.

Why did it sell for such a low value? Paintings often sell for 20x this. This is a valuation you could see on Antique Roadshow. How is a copy of the US Constitution not a good investment?

The annual Orionid meteor shower is underway as Earth passes through a stream of debris from Halley's Comet.

The best time to look is during the hours before sunrise on Monday morning.

Observers in both hemispheres can see this shower, which could produce up to a dozen meteors per hour.

I know you guys prefer news on this newsletter, but I just wanted to share this quote which I found very interesting...

“Man should not be able to see his own face -- there’s nothing more sinister. Nature gave him the gift of not being able to see it, and of not being able to stare into his own eyes. Only in the water of rivers and ponds could he look at his face. And the very posture he had to assume was symbolic. He had to bend over, stoop down, to commit the ignominy of beholding himself. The inventor of the mirror poisoned the human heart.”

— Fernando Pessoa

[anantradingpvtltd]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] Once Upon a Time in Mumbai Dobaara is the story of an underworld don, Shoaib (Akshay Kumar) who killed his mentor in the past (Once Upon a Time in Mumbaai) to gain supremacy and is now the ruling mafia king. His influence and power has spread right up to the Middle East today. Shoaib is now a flamboyant suave man who is feared and revered. Shoaib's only confidantes are his best friend Javed, who oversees his empire for him and his former lover Mumtaz (Sonali Bendre) who is now his closest friend. He often visits the poor Muslim areas where he grew up and it is on one such visit that he meets Aslam (Imran Khan). He takes him under his wings and gradually Aslam becomes one of his favourites. Shoaib wants to gain full control over Bombay and this is met with resistance from two existing ganglords Vardha and Arun. Vardha and Arun join hands with a cop Sreenu, whose only purpose in life is finishing off Shoaib's reign, for which he gladly joins hands with the ganglords. While Bombay continues to be the object of their fancy Shoaib stumbles upon a young actress Yasmin (Sonakshi Sinha). He is immediately taken in by her freshness, beauty and candor. Slowly, but surely his attraction towards Yasmin goes onto becoming an obsession. This creates a rift between Shoaib and Aslam and results in the ultimate showdown between the mentor and protege. Is Discontinued By Manufacturer ‏ : ‎ No Rated ‏ : ‎ U/A (Parental Guidance) Language ‏ : ‎ Hindi Package Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 18.03 x 13.76 x 1.48 cm; 83.16 Grams Director ‏ : ‎ Milan Luthria Run time ‏ : ‎ 2 hours and 40 minutes Release date ‏ : ‎ 27 October 2013 Actors ‏ : ‎ Akshay Kumar, Imran Khan, Sonakshi Sinha, Sonali Bendre, Sarfaraz Khan Dubbed: ‏ : ‎ Hindi Subtitles: ‏ : ‎ English Language ‏ : ‎ Unqualified (Dolby Digital 5.1) Studio ‏ : ‎ Shemaroo ASIN ‏ : ‎ B00FKA0DA2 Country of Origin ‏ : ‎ India Number of discs

‏ : ‎ 1 Manufacturer ‏ : ‎ Shemaroo Item Weight ‏ : ‎ 83.2 g [ad_2]

[theindiareview]

Legacy of Ghazal Singer Jagjit Singh

Jagjit Singh is known as the most successful ghazal singer of all time achieving both critical acclaim and commercial success and whose soulful voice has touched million of hearts. Singer Jagjit Singh’s voice has hypnotized millions in India around the world. His fans are crazy for his mesmerizing ghazals – one of the most widespread and popular poetic forms, especially across the Middle East and South Asia. Jagjit Singh had mastered the art of expressing pain and sadness through melodious beautifully written songs. The journey of this man from Jagmohan to Jagjit was not an easy one. Jagmohan’s father Amir Chand was born in a Hindu family but he had adopted Sikhism and was now called Sardar Amar Singh. His conditions were dire as he was poor and had to work throughout the day. However, he was dedicated to study in the night and got a government job where he was first posted in Bikaner in Rajasthan. One fine day when he was travelling from Bikaner to his hometown Sri Ganganagar, he met a beautiful Sikh girl named Bachchan Kaur on the train and once their conversation started it never ended as they both got married. They had 11 children, out of which only four survived of which Jagmohan was one of them born in Sri Ganganagar in 1941. After India gained independence in 1947, it was a very difficult period for the nation as it was starting to stand on its own legs and every person was struggling for food and means of work. In such struggling times there was hardly any place for art forms like music. But as the story goes, amidst all this a promising young man ventured out from the streets of Sri Ganganagar in Rajasthan in northern India. On one particular day, Jagmohan’s father took him to his religious guru who predicted and advised that if Jagmohan would change his name then one day he would win over this whole world with some special skill. From that day on Jagmohan became Jagjit. There was no electricity in those times and Jagjit used to study under kerosene lamp after dusk though he was not very keen on studies. Jagjit had immense love and passion for singing from a very young age and the first song that he sang was while still studying in Khalsa school and later in 1955 he sang for big composers. He also used to sing Gurbani (religious hymns) in Gurudwaras – holy place of Sikhs from a young age. Later Jagjit moved to Jalandhar in Punjab in northern India for higher studies where he completed his Bachelor of Science at DAV college. Throughout his college days he sang many songs and in 1962, he sang a song in front of Dr Rajendra Prasad, the first president of India, during college Annual day celebration. His father always wished that Jagjit would study harder and become an engineer or a bureaucratic office considered to be a highly respectable job in the government so to fulfill his father’s wishes, Jagjit travelled to Kurukshetra in Haryana to do his Master of Arts in history. During his post-graduation days Jagjit travelled to Shimla in Himachal Pradesh to sing for a particular occasion and accidently met Om Prakash who was a famous actor in the Indian film industry. Om Prakash was so impressed with Jagjit’s singing that he immediately asked Jagjit to come to Mumbai, the home of the Indian film and music industry. Jagjit promptly agreed and moved to Mumbai where he initially survived by doing odd jobs, then started making some money by composing advertisement jingles and by doing live performance at wedding functions. Unfortunately, this was not a very pleasant journey for Jagjit as he could not achieve anything and was left penniless to even survive in Mumbai and so he headed back home travelling hidden in a train lavatory. However, this experience did not kill Jagjit’s spirit and in 1965 he was determined that he will spend his life with music and so he once again moved to Mumbai. One of Jagjit’s closest friends named Haridaman Singh Bhogal arranged money for Jagjit to travel to Mumbai and would also keep sending money to help him survive in the big city. Jagjit did get monetary help from his generous friend but during his struggling days he faced many difficulties. Jagjit eventually learned classical music from the famous singers of that time – Mohammed Rafi, K L Sehgal and Lata Mangeshkar. Later his interest in a professional career in music progressed further and he decided to attain format training in classical music from the proficient Ustad Jamal Khan and Pandit Chagan Lal Sharma ji. Interestingly during his struggling days in Mumbai, he even did a small acting gig in film director Subhash Ghai’s movie ‘Amar’ as the main protagonist’ friend. Jagjit’s family was totally unaware that that he was in Mumbai as he used to go home during his college vacation. When he did not visit home for a long duration, his father asked Jagjit’s brother to seek information from Jagjit’s friends about his whereabouts. Though one of his friends did inform Jagjit’s brother that Jagjit had quit his studies and had moved to Mumbai but his brother chose to remain silent about this. After around one month, Jagjit himself wrote a letter to his family telling them the entire truth and that he had also stopped wearing his turban because he felt that the music industry may not accept a Sikh singer. His father was furious to know this and stopped talking to Jagjit from that day on. During his stay in Mumbai, Jagjit got a chance to work with HMV company, a big music company of that era and his first EP (extended play) became very popular. He subsequently met Chitra Dutta, a Bengali when singing a duet advertisement jingle and surprisingly Chitra did not like Jagjit’s voice at first. Chitra was married at the time and had a daughter however she got divorced in 1968 and Jagjit and Chitra got married in 1971. This was glorious year for Jagjit Singh and he and Chitra were termed as the ‘Ghazal couple’. They were blessesed with a son soon after who they named Vivek. In this very year Jagjit had a super hit music album named ‘Super 7’. His most important and legendary album was ‘The Unforgettables’ using chorus and electronic instruments, an opportunity given to him by HMV after which he became a star overnight and this was really his first big achievement. ‘The Unforgettables’ was a high-selling album at a time when there was no marketplace for albums other than films. He received a cheque of INR 80,000 in 1977 which was a very huge amount back then. After seeing Jagjit achieve success his father started talking to him once again. Jagjit’s second album ‘Birha Da Sultan’ came out in 1978 and most of his songs were a success. Subsequently, Jagjit and Chitra released a total of sixteen albums. He became the first Indian musician to record a purely digital CD album ‘Beyond Time’ in 1987 recorded on foreign shores outside India, amidst this successful streak, Jagjit and Chitra suffered a devastating personal tragedy. Their son Vivek died in a road accident at a young age of 18 years. After this painful tragedy in 1990, Chitra and Jagjit both gave up singing. Jagjit returned to singing in 1992 and gave his voice to many poets. He produced several albums with writer Gulzar and composed the tunes for a television drama ‘Mirza Ghalib’ written by Gulzar. Jagjit also lend his voice to ‘Geeta Shloko’ and ‘Shree Ram Charit Manas’ and such hymns when recited by Jagjit Singh gave a heavenly feeling to the listeners. Some of Jagjit’s finest works came after he lost his son as this seemed to have an enriching effect on his heart. In India people were aware of classical music but the manner in which Jagjit’s voice connects with the common man is amazing. Though he sang in such a soulful voice, he was a very friendly and jovial person. He loved cycling as it reminded him of this youth. People of every age group admire not just Jagjit Singh’s singing but also the soulful lyrics and ghazal compositions. Jagjit did beautiful poetry and paid homage to every songwriter in his own distinct style. He was always very supportive of his colleagues with whom he always had amicable relations. In 1998, he suffered a major heart attack after which the doctor suggested him to undergo bypass surgery for which he did not agree. He instead decided to visit his friend in Dehradun, Uttrakhand who was an ayurvedic specialist and Jagjit put full faith in his treatment. After one month he resumed his work. Jagjit Singh is the only Indian singer-composer to have produced two albums for former Prime Minister of India Atal Bihari Vajpayee who is himself a poet – called Nayi Disha and Samvedna. In 2003, he received Padmabhushan, the third highest civilian honor in the country for his contribution to singing. In 2006, he received the Teachers’ Lifetime Achievement Award. Unfortunately, another tragedy took place in 2009 when Jagjit and Chitra’s daughter passed away causing them to drown in sadness once again. In 2011, after turning 70 Jagjit decided to do a ‘70 concert’ in which he presented a song in the memory of his son called ‘Chitti Na Koi Sandes, Jaane Who Kaunsa Desh, Jahan Tum Chale Gaye’ translated as ‘no letter or message, don’t know which is that place where you have gone’. In September 2011 Jagjit Singh suffered brain hemorrhage and after being in a coma for 18 days, he passed away on October 10, 2011. This man took ghazals to the common man and he received huge success as many of his songs are considered classics. He certainly is the most popular ghazal singer of all time. His songs ‘Jhuki Jhuki Si Nazar’ and ‘Tum Jo Itna Muskra Rahe Ho’ from the Hindi movie Arth expressed timeless ode to the feelings of love and passion and silent admiration. His songs like ‘Hosh Walon Ko Kya Khabar Kya’ and ‘Hothon Se Chhu Lo Tum‘expressed sadness, longing, pain of separation and one-sided love. Jagjit Singh has left behind a beautiful legacy of mesmerizing songs which shall be cherished by millions of listeners for a long time to come. *** Read the full article

[manalpathania]

#narendramodi #teachersofinstagram #rapevictim India was recently left in shock after the sordid details of a gruesome murder made headlines throughout the country; a man killed his livein partner before proceeding to chop her body and scatter the pieces in a forest. 28-year-old Aaftab Amin Poonawala and 26-year-old Shraddha Vikas Walker reportedly met in India's financial capital Mumbai before moving to Delhi. The couple who were living together got into a fight on May 18th, harsh words were said and allegedly in a fit of rage Poonawala killed Walker.

The Nirbhaya case is a gang rape and murder case dating back to 2012. The shameful incident happened on 16th December 2012, whereby Jyoti Singh or Nirbhaya as she came to be known, a 22-year-old physiotherapy intern, was beaten, gang-raped, and tortured in a private bus in which she was travelling with her male friend.

Laws alone cannot help we need to teach our Kids and society about right and wrong and what are their rights and limits.We need to teach them the meaning of word ''CONSENT''

If parents become empowered about the information, children will in turn become empowered.

Talk early and often, building on the conversation and developing the trust of talking together.

Don’t wait for children to ask questions. They pick up taboos early.

Be prepared for conversations – find appropriate resources to build confidence.

Fathers need to be part of the conversation, especially with boys.

Children are able to understand concepts if discussed in age-appropriate ways, eg respect and consent around touching bodies, which is generally addressed in child protection classes.

Provide honest, open, simple answers. Children know when they have been duped.

If you don’t know how best to answer the question, come back to it. Take the time to think, read and then talk. Say, “That’s a good question. I’m not sure how best to answer you at this point. I think about it and get back to you.”

Good communication is two ways, not a lecture.

Children also need good resources that are age appropriate.

This is lifelong learning, not a one-off talk. The responsibility lies with families, schools and communities to work together

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[sleepykittypaws]

2024 Theatrical Holiday Premieres

No Longer Being Updated As Of June 14, 2023

Merry Christmas (Bollywood romantic thriller starring Katrina Kaif and Vijay Sethupathi; directed by Sriram Raghavan; filmed in Mumbai) - Jan. 12, India

Small Things Like These (holiday-set drama starring Cillian Murphy, Ciarán Hinds and Emily Watson; based on the novel by Claire Keegan; Secrets are revealed in a small town in the weeks leading up to Christmas 1985; announced in 2023; filmed in New Ross, Ireland) - Feb. 15, Berlinale film festival

Ordinary Angels (faith-based drama starring Hilary Swank, Alan Ritchson, Nancy Travis and Tamala Jones; directed by Jon Gunn; Based-on-a-true-story tale of a struggling hairdresser who is inspired to help a widower and his sick daughter find a kidney donor) - Feb. 23 (Trailer)

The Russian at Christmas (partially-crowd funded holiday movie associated with the Stephen F. Austin State film program; directed by Armando Silvas; A mall Santa and his friend find themselves on the run from a Russian mobster after witnessing a Christmas Eve killing; filmed in Nacogdoches, Texas) - Feb. TBA, Nacogdoches Film Festival (Indiegogo)

Terrifier 3 (holiday-set, slasher movie sequel from writer-director Damien Leone; starring Lauren LaVera and David Howard Thornton) - Oct. 25

Red One (big-budget holiday action movie starring Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, Chris Evans, Lucy Liu, Kiernan Shipka, Nick Kroll, Kristofer Hivju, Wesley Kimmel and Mary Elizabeth Ellis; directed by Jake Kasdan; written by Chris Morgan; The leader of an elite force named the E.L.F must protect Santa and Christmas from those who seek to destroy it) - Nov. 15

The Story of Holly and Ivy (holiday movie based on the children’s book by Rumer Godden; directed by Gábor Csupó; adapted by Nina Gwyn Weiland and Jeff Stockwell; An orphan and a doll stuck in a toy store window create Christmas magic; announced in 2022; set to film in Germany) - TBA

Violent Night 2 (sequel to the 2022 action movie starring David Harbour; written by Pat Casey and Josh Miller; directed by Tommy Wirkola, who discussed the sequel in early 2023) - TBA

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever (family holiday movie starring Judy Greer and Pete Holmes; based on the book by Barbara Robinson and directed by Andy Finkman; An unruly family hijacks the local Christmas pageant;  filmed in Winnipeg) - TBA

Accidental Santa (English-language remake of the 2022 Latvian movie, Circenisa Ziemassvetki A prison escapee dresses up as Santa to avoid capture and finds himself hiding out with a cop’s family for the holidays ; announced in 2023) - TBA

Untitled Leslie Jones Project (holiday movie starring Leslie Jones; written by Jackie Clarke; A frustrated Mrs. Claus leaves Santa for Boston, where she reconnects with her family and the true meaning of Christmas) - TBA

A Lot Like Christmas (musical from writer/director Michael Suscy and composer Elliott Wheeler about fading diva Riva DeLange, who attempts to revive her once-annual holiday special in order to reconnect with her estranged adult children, who hate Christmas thanks to her; Suscy and Wheeler call NYC-set story, “a musical love letter to New York and the magic of Christmas in the city.”) - TBA

Stay Frosty (holiday-set action movie starring Idris Elba; directed by Sam Hargrave; written by Tyler Marceca; After surviving an assassination attempt, a man must find out who is trying to kill him in time for Christmas; announced in 2021) - TBA

Christmas Balloon (holiday movie from Mattel Films, based on the story of a young Mexican girl who tried to send her Christmas list to Santa via balloon, and sparked a toy donation movement when it ended up in the hands of a couple grieving the loss of their own child; written by Gabriela Revilla Lugo) - TBA

Jingle Bell Heist (holiday movie written by Abby McDonald; Thieves team up to rob a New York department store at the holidays, falling in love along the way) - TBA

The Very Last Christmas (Swiss thriller starring Urs Hugentobler, Michi Gerber, Vanessa De Angelis, Fabienne Huber and Luca Favre; written and directed by Reinhard Fust; A group of young people spend the holidays at a remote Alpine cabin, skiing and partying until they’re buried by a Christmas Eve avalanche and must struggle to survive) - TBA. Switzerland (Website)

Merry Christmas Mon­sieur Hulot (French animated movie directed by Céline Willard and Marc Rius; written by Marc Rius; A man who can’t stand to lose his Christmas tree, plants it in his town’s roundabout to share its joy year-round, but when it grows too big the mayor threatens to cut it down) - TBA (Website)

Goodrich (holiday-set comedy starring Mila Kunis and Michael Keaton; written and directed by Hallie Meyers-Shyer; A man on his second marriage is suddenly left in charge of his young twins, and turns to his adult daughter for assistance, even though he was an absentee dad to her; announced in 2023; filmed in L.A.) - TBA

It’s Christmas! (holiday movie written and directed by Jamie Adams; filmed in the UK) - TBA

Laxman Lopez (holiday movie starring Nawazuddin Siddiqui; directed by Roberto Girault; announced in 2022) - TBA

The Hollys (holiday movie starring Sarah Shahi; directed by Burr Steers; A recently fired single mom takes her daughter and moves back in with her own mother, who is recently divorced, at the holidays, as the trio tries to get their lives back own track; announced in 2022) - TBA

Curbside Service (holiday-set movie starring Laurine Price; written by Christian van Slyke; A separated couple get stranded in the desert on their way to a holiday event) - TBA

Y2K (holiday-set disaster comedy starring Jaeden Martell, Rachel Zegler, Julian Dennison, Lachlan Watson, Mason Gooding, The Kid Laroi, Alicia Silverstone and Tim Heidecker; directed by Kyle Mooney; written by Evan Winter; A pair of nerds decide to crash the cool kid’s 1999 New Year’s Eve party but get more than they bargained for when the clock strikes midnight; announced in 2023) - TBA

The Matzah Ball (holiday movie based on the novel by Jean Meltzer; produced by Lance Bass and Ben Savage; A Jewish woman has kept her career as a Christmas romance writer secret from her family, but is forced to work with a childhood enemy when her publisher wants a Hanukkah romance; announced in 2022) - TBA

A Christmas to Remember (holiday comedy written by Erick Galindo and Patty Rodriguez; A petty holiday tyrant runs a White Elephant gift exchange with an iron fist, where people compete to bring the best gift; announced in 2022; filmed and set in Big Bear Lake, Calif.) - TBA

Naughty (holiday action rom-com starring Amber Midthunder; written by Siena East; announced in 2023) - TBA

This Time Next Year (holiday movie starring Sophie Cookson and Lucien Laviscount; directed by Nick Moore; adapted by Sophie Cousens from her 2020 novel of the same name; Two babies born on New Year’s Day, a minute apart, in the same hospital, keep running into each other each New Year’s Eve, before finally giving in to fate; announced in 2023; filmed in Rome and the UK) - TBA

Giving Thanks (holiday comedy starring Rebecca De Mornay, Terrence Howard and J.B. Smoove; directed by Leslie Small; written by Charles Kenneth Maye and Michael N.J. Wright; Two friends stuck in low level jobs kidnap a star athlete’s pet to hold for ransom in a misguided attempt to appear successful to their family at the holidays; filmed in Georgia) - TBA

The Guns of Christmas Past (holiday-set action movie starring Liev Schrieber; directed by Xavier Gens; written by Andrew Hilton; A former hitman returns for revenge when his best friend is killed, but ghosts of the past, present and future try to thwart his plans; announced in 2023) - TBA

The December Cross (holiday-set movie starring Kellan Lutz, Neal McDonough and Mila Harris; written and directed by Todd Turner; Border agents in a town named Bethleham intercept two children; filmed in Massachusetts; announced in 2023) - TBA

Midwinter Break (holiday-adjacent movie starring Lesley Manville and Ciaran Hinds; directed by Polly Findlay; based on the novel and adapted by Nick Payne; A married couple reach their breaking point during a winter holiday; announced in 2023) - TBA

Above the Line (Christmas-set heist movie starring Cedric the Entertainer, Sophia Ali, Gregg Henry, Adhir Kalyan, Reno Wilson, Jamie Lee, Dylan Playfair, Jackson Pace, John Way, Suzy Nakamura and Jordan Claire Robbins; directed by Jeffrey Scott Collins; Struggling actors are recruited for a holiday heist targeting the producer that wronged them all; filmed in L.A.) - TBA

We Live in Time (holiday-set romantic drama starring Andrew Garfield, Florence Pugh and Adam James; directed by John Crowley; written by Nick Payne; announced in 2022; filmed in the UK and France) - TBA

Snow Cookies (Greek-language holiday movie starring Yannis Tsimitselis; filmed in Greece) - TBA (Instagram)

Santa’s List (holiday horror-thriller directed by Jhené Chase; written by Hamid and Camille Torabpour; A detective is lured home for the holidays by the murder of her best friend and discovers a serial killer taunting her with the 12 Days of Christmas) - TBA

Dear Santa (a.k.a. Dear Satan; holiday comedy starring Jack Black, Keegan-Michael Key, Brianne Howey, Hayes MacArthur, PJ Byrne newcomer Jaden Carson Baker, Kai Cech and Austin Post; directed by Bobby Farrelly; written by Dan Ewen; A dyslexic middle schooler finds his letter to Santa redirected to the underworld due to a misspelling, and the devil shows up to claim his soul; filmed in Decatur, Georgia) - TBA

Life and Death of a Christmas Tree (holiday documentary directed by Arturas Jevdokimovas tracing the life cycle of European Christmas trees; filmed in Lithuania, Georgia and Denmark) - TBA (clip)

Bitter Christmas (a.k.a Amarga Navidad; holiday drama starring Maria Rojo; written and directed by Pedro Almodovar in his first fully English-language movie; A woman is abandoned in New York by her partner at Christmas) - TBA

Come to My Place This Christmas (a.k.a. Ven a mi casa esta Navidad; Argentine holiday drama starring Leonora Balcarce and Marita Ballesteros; directed by Sabrina Campos; Spending Christmas with her brother’s in-laws a single woman in her 40s feels judged for her life choices) - TBA

Blind River (holiday-set crime drama starring Annalise Basso, Tracy Campbell, Steven Ogg, Jay Huguley, Denise Smolarek and Avalon Reign; written and directed by Carissa Stutzman; An overprotective blind mother’s daughter goes missing on Christmas Day and she quickly becomes a suspect) - TBA

Down Below (holiday horror-thriller starring Eric Roberts, Hutch Dano, Christopher Livingston, Doug Jones, Bai Ling and Alexis Knapp; directed by Spyder Dobrofsky; A sheriff and his suspect are both haunted by a sinister evil on Christmas Eve) - TBA

Naughty (holiday comedy directed by Olivia Wilde; written by Jimmy Warden; A woman travels to the North Pole in hopes of convincing Santa to testify on her behalf in a custody case; announced in 2023) - TBA

Wolfs (at least partially holiday-set thriller starring George Clooney, Brad Pitt and Amy Ryan; written and directed by Jon Watts; A pair of lone wolf fixers are forced to team up; filmed in New York and L.A.) - TBA

[sword-of-summer]

All of them answer every question fuck you

ahahaha no i respectfully deny your "fuck you" and i accept the ask and so-

i am 5'10", and i don't wish to be taller or shorter- i am the perfect height for hugs and messy hair, and yep, i like it here-

dream pet would be a mix of golden retriver and a husky called Holly and a chonky cat called Loki- yes ofcourse my future kids have names everyone should name their future pets-

ripped jeans/black pants with a Darth Vader tshirt or a Ethnic Fusion Kurta with black sneakers/artificial leather slip-ons, and if it's cold, a black jacket open obviously- and a black wristwatch i love my black wristwatch.

favourite video game was Clash of Clans and going even back, GTA Vice City and, the og- MARIIOOOO

three things/people are Oreos, Nutella and Pizza. The Holy Trinity-

"Beware me my fingers are smeared with chicken popcorn grease"

you didn't mention an opinion, @chunkybirb, so imma give my opinion on Vanilla ice cream and Nutella- ANYONE WHO HADN'T COMBINED THESE TWO COMBINE THESE TWO THEY ARE FUCKING AWESOME

im either phlegmatic or melancholic bruh idk maybe ik or maybe not

im v v v v ticklish

not an allergy, but an intense hatred for ketchup- i vomit if it gets too close to me fuck you ketchup

im heterosexual

any between tea and coffee but full milk coffee (ik, kill me), never had cocoa- but i love a chocolate or nutella milkshake

both. both is good. (cat and dog)

i would be an elf cause hell yeah, knowledge and wisdom

favourite youtuber is Samay Raina, a stand up comedian turned youtuber who is just awesome-

as i mentioned in 1., i am 5'10"

i would not change my name cause it's the coolest fucking name ever, i am Tanay, and Tanay in Hindi means Son, and my parents literally named their son Son, and hell yeah i like it

i forgot how much i weigh- last i checked it was 75 kilos, but ive gained weight since 2019 so yep, gotta walk in the mornings

yes i believe in metaphysicality cause one- it seems cool- second- me and @theclassyghost discussed a metaphysical life theory that i really really like and metaphysicality gives preservation of knowledge so i believe in spirits

SPACE. SPACE. SPACE.

im not that religious, no

pet peeves no well nah not really

nocturnal def nocturnal i sleep at 4.50 anyway hehehehe

fav constellation is Cassiopeia

fav star is Sirius tho

what the fuck are ball jointed dolls

i do have a fear of losing people that's just anxiety i guess

yep, global warming is real

never thought that much about reincarnation tbh but maybe, i do

fav movie is Spider Man : Into The SpiderVerse and Inception and The Dark Knight Rises and Revenge of The Sith and yes, for my indian gang, 3 Idiots and Gully Boy

yep i get scared v v v easily

i have had no pets but i plan to once i grow up

@chunkybirb 's blog is fucking cool awesome and *chef's kiss* a masterpiece

blue calms me. i love blue.

live in Norway cause pretty lights, snow, and less people than this overpopulated country i am in

born in Mumbai, India

v v v dark brown like it's almost black but no it's dark brown

introvert

horoscopes and zodiacs, i do read them, never believed that much tbh-

HUGS I LOVE HUGS

i really wanna visit my brother i haven't met him in a long time i really wanna play cricket w him just like old times

my sister- she's annoying but well i care for her

nah

tattoos idk bruh im okay idk may get one or may not get one

nope, smoking is ewwww *vomits*

ah my crush- she's cool [ if she exists

when the chalk doesn't write on the board but goes iiiiiieeee I HATE THAT

a sound i love is rain pitter pattering i just hhhhhh sends me into happiness

nope fatass here

nope fatass here

favourite actors have to be eddie redmayne, oscar issac and pedro pascal- and margot robbie and winona ryder in the actresses section also yes, elliot page

bruh already answered in 30.

im okayish!! spotify and tumblr, cool combo-

my hair are okay being black for me

yesterday, monday, from 6.40 to 6.50

music

uhhh naah not that i know of

well in Rick Riordan's Magnus Chase books, the sword of Frey aka Sumarbrander TALKS and demands to be called Jack, so here i am

bakwaas, music and comfy

yep, i believe in evolution

unfollow on hate and when they dm me sending nsfw pics ugh why are people like that

follow, well, i like people and they seem cool, so i follow them

fav kind of person is the one who'll sit with me for hours not even talking and just vibing to music

fav animals are beavers, doggos and cats

three fav blogs are @chunkybirb, @theclassyghost, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @aredhel-of-gondolin, @sue-me-imbadass, @alleenkaas, @my-ackerman, @brrrrrrrrrrzone

fav emoticon has to be ☹ this me seeing my stupidity outrank others

fav meme has to be Butternut is a master of psychological manipulation

INTP

Libraaa let's go

no dog, i have

black darth vader tshirt, black pants, black sneakers and black wrist watch

i have no selfies my phone has no cameras i live in eternal darkness

what the fuck are platform shoes

i, uhhh, i remember weird things like what i drew in class in 3rd while i was supposed to be doing english

lazy ass here, no front flips possible

i like birds they fly

nope i don't Iike swimming i like blankets

wrapped up in blankets reading books sounds better than both

ketchup

hyperspace travel

nope none

reading writing eating sleeping

my friend

tumblr seems cool

i have around 60-70 idk

yes i can run but why

yes they do but what's the fun in that

nope I'd fall over

sapphire let's go

koala bear or panda

sunflower or the one on a lemon tree

ketchup store

one cup of coffee is enough, tysm

read minds that sounds cool cool yeaaahh

nope never wore it a black clothes guy here BatMan

winter winter all year long

i don't know and i don't wanna try

i don't know and i don't wanna know

everyone cause they are better than me

bookstores cause bookstores any bookstores

sneakers, black onez

apparently some gas bitches mixed up to form a planet

non vegetarian but i partake meat just twice or thrice in two weeks

i don't know they don't seem like liking

naaaaaaaah

bugs ew

spiders ew

about the fact that i come off as arrogant and overconfident while in reality it's just that my communication skills suck

i can draw averagely whenever im in a mood

this thing im answering but i like answering it

uhhhhhhh brain freeze- idk bruh questions are good they give knowledge

yep, while sleeping

ahh yes calming, they are

cloudy days cause fucking cool vibes

hehehe wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy

CumuloNimbus i really like it's name yknow nimBUS

dark blue, dark blue always or black

naaaah no freckles

fav thing is when they laugh and it's just happy and we're both laughing like shitheads but who cares we're rebelling against depressing life and we laugh

both. both is good [ fruits and vegetables

sleep but i have to answer 170 questions cause @chunkybirb

sky sky sky it's my blog's header duh uh sKy

sweet and sour candy. SWEET AND SOUR CANDY.

dim lights it makes me feel cool

ahhh so here we go- Mooncalfs, Thunderbirds, Phoenixes, Sphinxes, Dragons that seem to be Space Nebulae, and more and more and more

i really feel like a boomer sometimes

i love everything about this site/app it makes me feel happy cause i like the people and the posts

uhhhhh i think too much about everything cause i just do. i like thinking

"He's dead, guys. For the sake of The Force, please watch Star Wars now he wanted to discuss it with you" actually no i would just say "A big shoutout to Garlic Bread he loved Garlic Bread"

myself cause i should be sleeping but sleep is for the weak and i am the weak and the strong i am a paradox-

that i obsess too much on things and try involving people it never works out

nope. had braces for 4 years, that beat out teeth showing smiles

i prefer computer-tv ahahahahaha

never tried them, so IDK

naaaaah not motion sickness- never travelled by sea so idk seasickness

lobed ears

yep i believe that deeds do count in life and beyond

idk bruh i don't believe in physical attraction too much- bodies are fake- mentally/metaphysically tho, im a 7

ahhhhh many many Stupid Genius, Tani, Tanu, Tanya

i still do-

i really want to talk to a therapist. converse. and discover.

im both, i am both.

10:1 is the ratio- giving 10, receiving 1

uhhh nothing just when i am right and people use the old "disrespect" argument

3, Hindi, Marathi, English

girls

uhh no i am not

my hair i love them everyone says things about my hair but i love them

knowledge vibes i give, someone tells me- and that's all i ever wanted

anyone i know tbh, my mutuals, my friends, my discord friends

ahhh no i wouldn't but i wish i was born 20 years earlier

bleh bloo, neither like nor dislike

i don't know if i have one

i don't know, haven't had physical contact in a long long long time in a galaxy far far away

the above point stands but i would like to ig

anything i write, 3 hours later, i instantly hate just idk why

anything i write

that i am normal no i am not and i am not okay hahahahaha

65-70 ish people

somewhere around-

many many many don't ask please but okay if you do ask

somewhat

uhhhhh idr exactly but i won't tell in public duh uh

mediummm hairrrr

last year lockdown i became harry potter

i don't know buddy i seriously don't know

yep i do cause knowledge i like knowledge

naaah never tried

no i definitely cannot stand on my hands or my head for more than 30 seconds

yep, im pretty sure i answered most of them correctly-

og link-

[popculturebuffet]

New X-Men Xtrospective Part 2: Germ Free Generation (Annual, #117-120)

Hello all you happy mutants! And welcome back to my look one of my faviorite runs of one of my faviorite super teams by one of my faviorite comic book writers!

For those of you just joining us.. it’s been a while. I did the first instalment of this retrospective back in early January as a present to my friend for christmas, as he had never read E is for Extinctoin and what with this run being vital to the current, utterly brilliant Krakoa era of X-Men. But with both Black History Month and Valentine’s day, February had no real room for this one and march ended up being just as crammed with me doing essentially the entire della arc of ducktales in one month. I didn’t mean for this retrospective to get pushed so far back, but since I gave up doing weekly coverage of Final Space I had some room on the schedule so this retrospective is back with a vengance with two entries this month and hopefully at least one a month afterword to keep it at a decent clip. 

Last time I covered the background of this run and didn’t really find much for the issues after, so I won’t have to spend as much time on background. 

So since i’ts been a few months, a refresher is probably in order

PREVIOUSLY, ON X-MEN:  Our merry mutants enterted a marvelous new era. As Charles redidciated to the dream with new equipment and a new uniforms our hero encounter a new villian: The Mysterious Cassandra Nova, a powerful telepath who used an uwitting patsy from the trask family and a defucnt sentinel factory to slaughter the mutant nation of Genosha, killing 16 million mutants in the most horrific act of genocide against mutants ever known. And the fact there has been more than one genocide against mutant kind MIGHT, just MIGHT be the reason they blackmailed for peace with life saving drugs instead of helping willingly and freely in the current comics. Just maybe. 

Cassandra was captured by the X-Men soon after but escaped and nearly got a hold of Cerebra only to be stopped thanks to a combination of former enemy, genoshan resident at the time of the genocide, and that bitch Emma Frost who snapped her neck and Charles himself who uncharacteristically shot Cassandra in the head. That night Charles took a bold step over that would change the X-Men forever and told the world on live tv:

While all of this was going on we got caught up on the team’s personal struggles, currently consisting of Cyclops, Jean Grey, Beast and Wolverine with Emma joining as of the issue we’re about to cover. Beast is grappling with a secondary mutation that makes him look like Aslan, the jesus of narnia and all lions. Meanwhile Scott and Jean are grappling with their non existant sex life as Cyclops possesion by Apocalypse shortly before this story has severely rattled him and caused him to close himself off emotionally. 

So that’s where we pick up. Our heroes are now no longer hiden saftely in the shadows from a world that hates and fear them but are out front and center with the world watching. And we’ll see both how that helps their cause and how it puts them directly in the cross hairs under the cut.  Content Warning: This review discusses Transphobia and a scene involving a school shooting. If either of these are a trigger for you or something you do not want to read about  please skip this part of the retrospective for your own well being. Thank you and have a lovely day. 

The Man From Room X:

We have three stories today: an annual that introduces our final team member and the main villians of our next arc, a one off that moves the main plot for the first 12 issues along, and a three part arc about said villains.  Before we get into the Annual, I have to talk about it’s weird gimmick: The issue is entirely sideways. I don’t mean it’s bad though some parts are problematic I mean when bought it’d be on it’s side and in my trade I have to flip the whole thing over on it’s side to read it. It’s just a .. weird choice. Not the weirdest thing about this issue somehow but not unexpected from Grant as they like to play with the formula. 

We open in said Room X, a location in China where a mutant named Xorn is kept and showed off to a mysterious group of dickweeds in suits representing “Mr. Sublime”.  His jailer, General Aao Jun,, shows him off as most bad guys would : By undoing his helmet and thus disntegrating two innocent children just by looking at them. Sublime says they have a deal. 

Meanwhile also in China the X-Men are there for a funeral and Emma and Scott trade insulting questions back in forth: She mocks him about his lack of sex with Jean lately and he brings up her criminal past. As for why Emma’s still with the x-men.. it’s out of pragmatisim. WIth Genosha gone, the x-men are the saftest faction to throw in with. 

As for why the X-Men are in China, Charles has rapidly expanded his operations now he’s public by setting up X-Corps, a multinational humantarian aid organization dedicated to helping mutants in need wherever they sprout up. He’s set up offices in Hong Kong, Amsterdam, Mumbai and Melborne. 

He’s also half assed it, at least for the Hong Kong office and only gave them two employees: Domino, who those of you not as familiar with the comics may remember from deadpool and Risque.. who I honestly had never heard of before New X-Men and frequently forget existed. I just looked her up for the first time and she’s a minor mutant who was an associate of X-Force and Warpath’s love intrest. She could compress matter causing it to implode. My assumption here is that Morrison simply picked a minor mutant at random for the job. 

But yeah naturally with only two mutants charged with, according to domino “All of asia” went horribly and the x-men are there for Risque’s funeral and to find out what happened. Unsuprisingly it’s tied into our cold open: Risque had found evidence of a mutant trafficking operation and died fighting them off and Dom is naturally f eeling in over her head since said operation involves the chinese goverment, who according to her exccute most mutants at birth and John Sublime and his cult. 

We soon see a press confrence from this asshole and find out what his deal is: Sublime is the head of the U-Men, a group that belivies they are a “third species” of mutants trapped in human bodies that deserve to have the surgery to make them into mutants, and thus wear weird suits until the world is pure and allows them to have surgery for it. 

Yeahhhh this.. this is really fucking uncomfortable and is going to be present throughout today’s piece so let’s just go ahead and rip that band-aid off:  The U-Men come off as HIGHLY transphobic. They use terms similar to trans people call themselves trans species and are trapped inside a body they don’t belong in. It’s VERY uncomfortable to read as a result and something that hadn’t really sunk into till thsi reading but once it had.. oh god does this not age well. 

The one thing that keeps this from runing the run and Grant Morrison as a whole for me.. is that I do not think for one second it was intentional. Grant themself is genderqueer, nonbinary and a cross dresser. None of this means they CAN’T be prejudice, being Queer does not magically make you immune to being prejudiced. But before this Grant had the genderqueer sentient street Danny the Street over in doom patrol and a trans main character in his book the invisibles, Lord Fanny. And given New X-Men’s biggest flaw as a whole is clumsy early 2000′s unforutnate implications such as a good chunk of the things about Cyclops affair with Emma, we’ll get to that at the right time, Angel in the next arc and Dust, who was introduced as from afganastan wearing an outfit not seen in the country and speaking a language not spoken in the country. Grant didn’t make these mistakes TWICE, it’s why I still have respect for them, and this won’t be the first or last comic i’ve forgiven for being stupid for it’s time. But I will still call Grant out when I see it. Just because I respect an author just because they changed my life does not mean I won’t call them out when they fuck up. And if they prove to be truly vile, have harmed someone or what have you I will cut them the fuck out of my life. I’ve done it with JK Rowling, Warren Ellis, Brad Jones and Joss Whedon. I would do it with Grant if I truly belivied they were transphobic and instead didn’t just write something very stupid without thinking the metaphor through 20 years ago. 

So anyway back to the comic book bollocks as Wolvie and Dominio prepare for an infiltration and flirt a bunch. We also find out Jun is a mutant himself with a power only Grant could dream up: his skin, hair and what have you that falls off him turns into a naked golem for a bit before expiring. And if you hadn’t read this issue before reading this review, yes that actually happened. While the first arc had a BIT of Grant’s trademark batshit insanity, the series REALLY starts to pick it up from here: This issue has a mutant with functioning star for a head, a poorly thought out bucnh of sci fi new age organ theives, and a general whose power is “makes naked clones out of his dandruff”. Oh and his fondest wish?

I just... I don’t know how to respond to that. I don’t know how you respond to an old man’s weird murder fetish that he tells a somehow even creepier cult leader while said cult leader is paying him to buy a star man, and their both surronded by the creepy old guy’s skin golems that weirdly look like mudokons. Look i’ve  read Grant’s entire utterly bonkers run on doom patrol. I’ve seen a man who looks like a question mark use a bicycle that makes everyone high like their on LSD for president. And THIS is what breaks me. 

So while.. THIS is going on, Dom and Wolverine plan to do it all night long on the professor’s credit card, no really he gives all his professors carte blanch to use school fun, and inflitrate, Dom through the elvator this horrorshow just took place in and Wolvie james bond style. Also I gotta say I REALLY love how Morrison writes Domino. She’s wittiy, entertaining and her power is as awesome as always, super luck if you didn’t know. It’s a real shame he didn’t add her to the team: She wasn’t on any other x-teams, with X-Force having been rebranded into X-Statix by this point. She would’ve been a fun addition to the cast. 

Naturally wolverine is found out.. but that was the entire plan, for him to serve as a distraction then cut his way to domino while she steals something from the vault. As for the rest of the X-Men, Cyclops, Beast and Emma are all downstairs in the parking garage and find a secret entrance. Jean is not on this trip and that’s a major plot point for this run. This is where Risque died.. and it only get’s worse when Hank goes inside, finding a bug like child, basically htink a giant caterpillar but with tons of human arms inttead of legs with her wings cut off. 

Thankfully as Logan and Dom escape above, the U-Men are dumb enough to storm down bellow.. and while they incapacitate beast with some launched tiny knives, designed to incapcicate but leave them in tact for harvest, Emma beats the shit out of them and get the info out as only she can....

Granted she could’ve just turned back to normal and used her telepathy.. but what fun would that be? Plus they have blockers and you know CUT UP A FUCKING CHILD. SO yeah fuck them, let emma have her fun. 

Thanks to her they find out the U-Men are a front for illegal organ harvest, and while they can’t prove sublimes attached Emma suggests killing him.  Good idea but Scott suggests the lighter approach and we find out what Dom stole, a key, something Emma can psychcially scan. She warns it might take her a bit to get something.. only to be flooded instantly and we find out who the man in the box was. Shen Xorn... i’ll let emma tell you more herself. 

It’s stuff like this why, despite some serious flaws like the U-Men debacle and some stuff to come, some I mentioned above other that’s just with the plot that i love this run. Morrison just gets how to really tell an x-men story and the real tragedy of being a mutant. That just for being diffrent, you get shut out, or in this case thrown into a box when you could’ve and should’ve been something more. As emma turns herself to diamond to deal with the psychic backlash, Beast has some solemn words to share. 

That night Scott rests in his bedroom while presumibly hearing some truly horrific and sexy things next door while talking to jean before clocking out.. only for Emma to head in in a sexy dress with champagne. What happened? Well we won’t know for sure for most of the run. 

The next day the U-Men prepare to load and we get some scrap of what the idea was supposed to be: John talks to Ao Jun about his procedures. We see wings crudely sewen to his back and his throat implaants hurting “But one day I will fly”. THe IDEA is their supposed to be lunatics, people who envy mutantkind but don’t actually respect their culture or their sense of personhood. It’s not the worst idea and had Grant not used trans termnology for htis, it would’ve been a great one. I think he INTENDED for them to be coopting the idea of being trans and what not to maks their true intentions.. which is problematic due to debates like the ones on bathrooms where a lot of transphobic asshats make the bad faith argument a bunch of people are going to pretend to be trans to assault people. 

We’re.. we;’re not even to the main storyarc yet. 

But things soon go wrong as Xorn’s starhead starts to collapse into a black hole, with no solution as the x-men took the key to his helmet.. and assault the compound. Turns out the star collapse thing is Jun’s revenge on humanity for lockig him down here and he gets his neck snapped.  Scott has a solution though.. and it’s stuff like this why I fucking love Scott Summers and get annoyed when people call him “boring”: He realizes Xorn is comitting sucicide.. so he’s going to talk him out of it. Not just for everyone else but he deserves to live. And while Emma points out only logan among htem knows chinese and she can’t get through to Xorns’ head due to the way his brain works, Scott has a simple workaround: Use the nearest chineses speaker to teach Scott chinese. So.. with that he talks to Xorn. 

And that my friend is Scott Summers. A man who faced with powerful man whose given up, whose lost all hope... convinces him he can still go on. That living’s better than dying.. and that it does get better. The issue closes with Xorn basking in the sunlight for the first time in decades while Domino sweats having an extremley powerful unknown mutant out in the world. Scott’s already thought of that.. and signed him up with the x-men. Granted it won’t be until our next article that he actually fully joins the team, but w’ell get to that next time. 

This issue is great... while the U-Men stuff is pretty bad and isn’t going to get better, the tale of xorn is excitiong, Aao Jun is an intresting antagonist and the sideways gimmick suprisingly works. So now we’ve finshed our apitizer let’s get on to the main course. 

Danger Rooms:

We open in well.. the Danger Room with Beast training a new student. 

This is Beak. Beak is my faviorite character Morrison came up with and one of my faviorite X-Characters. Beak is a bird like boy who can fly, it’s just a struggle and due to looking diffrent and not having the most impressive power has very low self esteem. It’s also part of something Morrison took a concerted effort to do: introduce more mutants with genuinely odd apperances and drawbacks. Like we saw with Ugly John last time and Aao Jun in the previous issue, Morriosn really likes adding weird mutants but he also uses it to give a genuine downside to being one. While this isn’t NEW to x-men, Morriosn upped the scale and number of characters like this with weird powers and apperances. We see a bunch of human passing ones too but the backgrounds just jammed with all sorts of unique designs and students. It’s also the point where the school became far more crowded like the movies, a good call on my part both to help those coming in from the movies, and to help sell the mutant baby boom going on. After all it wouldn’t make sense if the school was just about 5-7 students and a bunch of grown adults doing superhero stuff like usual would it.

But we get to see that Hank is a good teacher, as he reminds the boy that he’s getting better and won’t be an x-man overnight, and worries about him to the professor, wanting the boy not to slip through the cracks, figuratively, and not to feel like an outcast.. especaily here. But Hank dosen’t feel blue for long, metaphorically he was blue long before he became the lion minus the witch and the wardrobe, as he has a date to night.. and so does Charles. 

Or rather he did.. his girlfriend trish, a long time love intrest of his and a reporter.. breaks up with him. Over voice mail. While in washington. And the reasons she gives are not great

Yes Hank’s transformation is radical.. but not only was it not his choice... she’s being a coward, sending the message it’s okay to dump someone because hteir a mutant or because they happen tobe diffrent and that efffects your career. Again it’s moments like this that make the run soar over the more awkward bits. 

Meanwhile Logan’s off doing logan stuff, i.e. gazing at a deer. Wow. Jean followed him. Both notice a space ship: Despite recently outing himself as a mutant, leading to an increased number of students and a bunch of rioting morons at the gates, Charles has decided NOW’S a good time to take a vacation to the Shiar empire. As for why Jean’s really out here, her marriage to Scott isn’t doing so good and while Logan encourages her to stay it’s just not that simple: Her telekenisis is coming back, stronger than ever. She feels the most alive she’s been while he’s shutting her out and feeling his deadest. She tries to turn to logan for comfort but he shuts her down. Just wait two decades jean... he’ll open up to a threesome. In all seriousness though having Jean try and come onto Logan .. will backfire slightly on later storylines. But we’ll get to that eventually. 

In the basement Hank is studying Cassandra or rather a virtual version of her since her body is naturally in storage. And he’s found out something disturbing: She’s Charles Genetic Twin.. oh and it gets way worse. The Professor’s weird behavior? Barely staffing the hong kong office, leaving suddenly with rioters t the gates, outing himself? About that...

Cassandra tourtures Hank with the possiblity he’s devovling and then tries to mind controlli him into cleaning himself with his diploma when Beak enters. The good news is this allows hank to shake off her control and tackle her, showing off why hank mccoy is fucking awesome in the process. 

That is the Hank McCoy I know, love.. and miss dearly. The one we’ll probably never get back sadly after what others did and what Percy’s had to do to reconclie with all they did. 

Unfortunately beak being around means cassandra can force him to beat beast into a coma with his bat. She plans to tear Charles dream down around him and make him watch.. and cryptically says he tried to kill her. She then cheerfully leaves Jean in charge.. and talks about just how much damage one could do with an entire interstellar empire in the wrong hands....

This issue is also excellent and sets up the next two arcs nicely while giving us a nice peak in hank’s head. Great stuff. The artist also hid the word sex in a lot of the images see if you can find them. 

Germ Free Generation Issue 1: 

So now we get into our main story for today. This story and the one before it were drawn by Ethan Van Sciver whose a talented artist.. but also highly contrversial for being a conservative. I myself.. don’t know what he’s said or did, though calling himself “Canceld Superstar’ on twitter really isn’t a good sign. So I really can’t comment on it but I also know someone would mention it if I didn’t bring it up and if you know what he did please enlighten me. 

So we open with a school shooter who also scooped out a guys eyes and is part of the U-Men. He get shot by the swat team while making his speech> it’s an effective opening but one that’s become more uncomfortable to read with each passing day due to school shootings going up and up in number. And mass shootings in general and I... I need a second. I need something to relax me

Thank you Stoopy. Your doing Odd’s Work. 

So the news reports on this and we soon see how Jean watches the news.. by using Cerebra to read the minds of every person on the planet. Neat. Everyone’s talking about them. We also get a hint for later as we hear on the suicide of one martha johanson who wrote the note in her own blood. She’ll be important later.... and I mean that both in the context of this retrospective and for the fact she’ll go on to be part of x-men in perpetuity. 

This is also where another great concept of Morrison’s pops up: Mutant culture. After all mutants are a minority, they should have their own culture. It’s something Hickman’s era has taken and ran with, but it’s a damn good idea and one that it shoudln’t of taken almost 20 years for someone else to use given Decimation was undone way back around 2012 in Avengers Vs X-Men, aka that event half hte articles on the mcu around the fox sale used as either their image for the article or asked about happneing. And yes that is a pet peeve of mine: while I do think like Civil War AVX could use a movie version to make it better, I don’t think it’s an event that could be done right away and would have to be almost entirely redone anyway given the context for AvX is entirely couched in decimation i.e. something NO ONE wants in any x-adaptation. 

So it turns out while watching the news in a next level way Jean is also talking to Logan. “Stay out of my personal fantasies”. Yeah I .. I don’t think your ready for a hairy canadian dry humping a transformer.. specifically killbison. And yes.. that is an actual transformer and why yes, I have been waiting to bring him up. 

And he is , and I am not making any of this up, part of a group of decpticons known as the breastforce. Your life is better for knowing that and you are welcome. 

Anyway as you’d imagine a genocidal old woman in her brothers’ body leaving the X-Men to fend for themselves after having a teenager bludgeon one into a coma after publicly outing them with a rabid bunch of bigoted morons at the gates has not gone great. Henry is still out and despite the short staffing Jean needs logan to stay where he is as he’s close to an emerging mutant and within range to go get her. 

Emma of course has never been so fucking irate in her whole life and is plotting various forms of psychic tourture with the help of her proteges the Stepford Cucokoo, 5 teenage mutants who functoin best as a unit and are easily some of MOrrison’s most prominent additions to the x-cast. Unlike a lot of the x-kids, they’ve been featured prominently in every era of x-men after this including the current one. 

Jean decides for a less “Make them hate us even more” approach, but no less pissed off, opening the gates and going out directly to chew out the assembled bigoted morons, pointing out the ones carrying “Mutants Go Home!” signs are especailly dumb as this IS her home. And while she dosen’t point this part out, it’ the same for all of them: most of the mutants are either adults who choose to live here, teenagers who along with their parents choose to live here, or in the majority teens who have no where else to go due to either being abandoned by their families or it being way to dangerous for said families for them to stay due to bigoted assholes like the ones holding mutants go home signs. 

A member of the press asks if she’s willing to talk to the media and she refutes most of his bullshit allegations: He asks if their building an army, she and Scott respond they are not and are simply educating mutants and protecting them. When he counters with the fact their living weapons and wearing uniforms... she counters with the fact she’s wearing them to protect herself, rightfully, from people like her, and the x-men are an aid orginzation going where needed to protect the world and while asshole points out no one apointed them.. jean shuts him down by pointing out there are no mutants in goverment and a genocide just happened, so someone has to do the job. Another random asshole tries to pipe up with “Genosha declared war on us” and Emma senses this is just going to go round and round and round and simply presses the assembled mob’s “bliss buttons” in their brains to knock them out. Non violent but honestly warranted: A dangerous part of bigoted assholes is they’l bring up racist bullshit to try and couch it like an actual conversation. None of these complaints really hold water if you looked at the x-men’s history for more than 5 minutes. Yes Charles is training them to fight and yes hte ingial class was an army but every class since has only been trained for self defense: they still got into adventures and what not, but it was usually by their own choice or because they were thrust into them by circumstance. Xaviers is exactly what jean said and endudgling these morons, while good on paper, only makes them seem legit. 

Jean retreats to the infirmary where she’s on the verge of breaking down from the sheer weight of everything. Cyclops proves that despite not being the best husband right now... he still loves his wife, offering to go look into Sublime with Emma and hoping Hank wakes up. Turns out his mind for now is a big blank room.

So she can’t get any info off his skull, and neither of the two think what happened with Beak adds up. Something is up here. Their also coming down with colds which will be important later. And just as important.. Magneto is becoming a symbol among people and merch sales with his image are on the rise.  We then get this. 

So Jean is trying to be a supportive, honest wife, and while the questions incredibly insulting.. his answer is equally so. Spoilers, as mentioned we do get an answer long after this.. and they did not. So Jean is wrong to be suspcious, at this point, but is at least trying to be polite about it and gave him the benifit of the doubt.. and Scott basically said he slept with her without actually saying it despite not having to. You could’ve said “no we did not have sex, we simply talked all night”. It’s not ENTIRELY better given the horrible state of their relationship right now, but it’s still better than HEAVILY implying he rocked her body to the break of dawn for no damn reason. 

So we meet our next major addition to the cast Angel Salvador, an abused teen who is a mutant.. and whose abusive and molesting step dad beats her and throws her out over this. The scene’s a bit overdone, coming off like an after school special.. but it’s what happens AFTER that’s truly heartwrenching. 

A poor scared teenager clutching herself, finding herself homeless alone and desperatly wishing she wasn’t what she was. It’s just a striking image and shows how well Grant uses the mutant metaphor. I could easily see myself in that position had my parents not been good peopl and had I come out far sooner as bi. The idea of desperatly hoping your not what you are simply becaus eof what hell it brings, despite all the joy it can bring too. . it’s heartbreaking to hear. 

Naturally though things don’t get much better as the next morning the U-Men have found her, calling her a freak and successfully kidnapping her.. if only because while she uses acid spit to escape, she flies into a power line. 

We then get Sublimes meeting with Emma and Scott and a BETTER use of teh u-men as while Grant made the horrible mistake of calling them “transpecies”, seriously what the fuck were you thinking, the way sublime frames it here is a MUCH better, much less accidently bigoted concept. 

The idea isn’t bad: A group of humans jealous of the mutants powers, blatantly ignoring the horrible downsides and mountain of persecution that comes with being one. Grant just made the mistake of couching in in Trans metaphors, clearly trying to have the U-Men steal from Trans People too as a way to make themselves seem legit. And I say if you want superpowers.. fine.. wanting to be a superhero or a mutant is fine, the issue with the U-Men is their copoting a culture, trying to be part of mutantkind without having any of the drawbacks and by actively butchering them. It’s why the concept HAS shown up elsewhere; it’s not TERRIBLE, Grant just made a bad creative choice that’s only gotten worse as Transphobia has ramped up further and further. 

Sublime denies it when our heroes bring up Hong Kong.. but naturally he’s simply just keeping them talking long enough to bring out his trump cards, an army of u-men and a brain in a jar he uses to incapacitate them.. and announces his plan to use the school as an organ farm for his third species. 

Meanwhile Logan finds the U-Men in their truck preparing to rip angel apart.. and given he snikit’s soon after.. i’ts very clear whose REALLY about to get ripped apart. 

Germ Free Generation Part 2: 

Part two begins wth Sublime monologoging about how Mutantkind are just cattle to them and reveals the brain is martha’s, her sucicide having been faked and her brain currently being controlled to use as a weapon. 

So while Johnny monlogues we find out what happened with Wolverine last issue he didn’t cut up the guys yet as they fired their little flichete guns at him... it was about as useful and effective as you’d expect and the massacre you were expecting occurs. Though in a nice bit of reality the fact wolverine’s soaked in blood and just killed a bunch of blood shockingly does not make the already frighttend teen feel he’s safe and she spits acid on him. Logan pours some stuff on the acid, figuring rightly a black ops murder farmacy would have something to counteract it and tells her she’s safe now .. and tells the guy behind him not to try it. He’s stupid and does anyway and likely gets a claw to the head off panel. 

They go to a diner to eat and find a local asshole who threatens them with a shot gun to leave once angel uses her power to digest and goes on a rant about how he snapped his own son’s neck to prevent him being born a freak. Just.. fucking hell this arc is not good for my depression. We get some more angst from Angel and whiel her dialouge is not the best, i’ts a too bit mark millar flavored edgelordy for my taste and if I wanted that i’d go read Ultimates or Ultimate X-Me, her pain is real and Logan helps her through it. 

Back at the Mansion the U-Men are on their way to strike, whlie Jean unaware continues to buckle under the weight of all the shit she’s had to deal with, feeling SOMETHING is making them weak with the colds and something worse is going on and thus tries going to Beak’s mind instead and gently helps talk him through it, showing her grace and empathy.. and in return finding out Charles was the one responsible. The alarms flair up and Jean tries calling the police now that’s an option.. but it goes exactly how you’d expect. 

Also a second artist took over for this issue and the next Igor Kordey. He’s fine, but not nearly as good as Quitely or Van Sciver and it shows. Meanwhile Beast awakens and heads for the body drawer with Cassandra’s body, and professor’s mind in it. 

However Jean’s finally had enough and got her second wind. She’s outgunned, outmanned and left to her own devices. And she’s fucking fed up with it. She steels herself and assembles the students. This is obviously a last resort.. but some of them can defend themselves and their going to need to. But today they won’t be learning.. they’ll be teaching and as the U-Men call them defensless Jeans simply asks “Are you sure about that?”

Germ Free Generation Part 3:

So we come to the finale of this arc. Angel is once again an ungreatful brat to logan and he opts to just leave her there if sh’es going to be like that pointing out being a mutant sucks, it’s going to keep sucking.. and she needs to deal with it instead of lashing out at him and herself over it. 

We get back to the U-Men, one of whom is utterly flabergasted they want to him to cut of Cyclops head... only for Emma to awaken.. and take back her regular form meaning she has her telepathy back. The only reason they were able to get her ealier is she was in diamond mode which is stronger but lacks that, a nice way to check and ballance her new powers. She quickly takes them out and disables Martha. 

Back at the school we get one of Jean’s definting moments for me and a true chance to show how badass she can be. Before this while Morrison wrote her well, and his version’s still my favoirite, she didn’t really get to do much and was motly in the background. This arc has been her time in the limelight, having trouble grappling with all the stress of running this place by herself.. and emerging from it stronger, more capable and ready to kick some racist weirdo ass. She tries a few diffrent tactics first, having a mutant with a voice power project it to make them think their san invisible army and having the cuckoos fuck with their heads but when both fail, Jean REALLY gets to show off. Thier blade ammo gets turned into a cool looking 3 dimensioinal shape with her telekneisis, and in a cool moment and a wise use of something gross makes the only one of them with useable powers throw up, before issuing a badass boast, wreathed in flames all while she crumples their guns into uselessness. and tears open their suits. 

Bad ass.. and logan and Angel arrive just in time for the cecendo as hte u-men flee in terror

The Phoenix has been Reborn. Jean Grey has risen from the ashes and returned to full power. 

Meanwhile Sublime is pankcing.. and it gets worse when Emma shows up, fully enraged after all of this and has some words for him. 

Iconic. Emma prepares to drop him out of a building but Scott rightly tries to get her to back off, pointing out the pr nightmare it’d create and the fact that they have enough evidence ot shut him down. Martha however has other ideas and gets him to let go of his own accord, falling to his death.. but given he’d aranged a stunt for the press apparently this gives our heroes deniability and Martha her revenge. 

So we end this three parter as Jean revels in her new power, and Beast returns with an announcment:

Final Thoughts for Germ Free Generation:  This arc is pretty good if forgetable. The struggle of Jean to run the school herself and her rising from the ashes of her own pain at the end with the power of the phoenix at the end is fantastic, finally both giving her a chance to shine.. and a worrying sign for her friends given what her phoenix force copy whose memories she has a copy of, long story, did is awesome. The other parts are okay and ehhhhhhhhh though. Scott and Emma’s investigation into the u-men while having a really good climax, is pretty standard x-men stuff, and Wolverin’es trek with angel is just okay with Angel being highly intolerable during this arc, with Morrison trying a bit TOO hard to make her a “realistic” teen instead coming off as horribly unplesant. She’s supposed to just be lashing out but comes off obnxious as a result. That said this arc does furhter a lot of Morrisons best idea and introduce more, and is a great setup for our next arc, which we’ll get to in two weeks. Soooo

Next Time On X-Men: We find out just what the hell Cassandra Nova is, what her plans are, and what happened with her and charles as our heroes come down with a cold as the might of the shiar empire bears down on them. It’s IMperial in two weeks. 

Next Time ON This BLog: Speaking of long Delayed Projects, I finally return to The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck as a young Scrooge starts his prospecting career, learning the ins and outs from a rich new mentor, and finding the price tag striking it rich comes with. Raid a copper hill with me tommorow. 

If you liked this review, subscirbe for more, join my patreon, and if there’s a comic you’d like me to cover suggest it in the comments or outright comission a review from me via ask. See you at the next rainbow

[iamtheprotagoneil]

im sure youve talked about this before but the fact that the protagonist had to say goodbye to neil twice - one we see in the movie, and the other in the future when he sends him back for the sator mission - AND the fact that when he sends neil to help the protagonist in the past the future!protagonist KNOWS he is essentially sending neil to his death....... it is all just very ouch

yeah, i probably have mentioned it once or twice, but you know what i haven’t talked about? the fact that maybe, the goodbye they got in the movie was the only one.

listen, i’ve talked lots about how sad the protagonist (in the future) would be when he had to send neil on this mission that would be his last. i’ve also talked lots about how sad neil would be to leave the protagonist behind to go to the past and save the world (and the protagonist’s life in the process). however, i don’t think i’ve ever talked about how, perhaps, they never got to do that. i’ve never talked about how, maybe, the protagonist never got to send neil away, and neil never got to say goodbye before he had to leave for the past.

So, let’s consider: The Protagonist died before it was time to send Neil away for the Sator mission.

It’s not too out of the left field, right? They lead a very dangerous life. Death was always around the corner, just standing in the shadow, waiting for them to make a mistake – for their luck to finally run out – so it could come out and pounce. And what if it did, when it was still much too soon?

Perhaps, it went down like this: in a flash, so fast that none of them had the time to react. One moment The Protagonist was there, and the next, in just a blink of an eye, he was on the ground, unmoving. Perhaps, it was a gunshot, a sharp/blunt object struck just at the right angle, that delivered the fatal blow and brought him down quick.

Neil was on him in an instant, abandoning his position in order to run over to his Protagonist. Neil tried shake him awake but he was unresponsive; the mask on his face – covered in dust and blood – did a very good job of obscuring his features. Neil couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or not. Neil kept calling his name, kept trying to rouse him to consciousness but nothing happened.

Still, they were in an active battle field. A teammate pulled Neil up by the arm, practically dragging him away from The Protagonist’s body and into the escape vehicle. Neil sat where he was placed in the backseat, feeling so numb and detached from the situation that he thought it might have been a dream. It must have been a dream, because this couldn’t be happening. The Protagonist couldn’t be gone. He was the mastermind, after all; the one who held all the information about the past, the present, the future. He couldn’t just be gone because—Neil just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Back at the base, Neil got angry. He started going off at the person who had pulled him away, screaming about how could they just leave their teammate behind like that. They would let him, seeing the desperation behind Neil’s eyes. They’ve all heard the rumors about The Protagonist and Neil – didn’t need confirmation to know it was true because they witnessed it pretty much every day – so they knew what he was going through.

Finally, Neil’s anger ran dry. He choked, came to a sudden standstill as the gravity of situation struck him once again, no way to deny it. They wouldn’t be able to help him if they brought him back, and they needed to get out quick. They couldn’t risk the rest of the team for just one person. Neil knew all this, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

He apologized to the teammate, who nodded and told him to go home and get some rest. Neil obeyed, grateful for the instructions because everything was so chaotic right now, in his mind, he wouldn’t have known what to do if left to his own devices. So Neil left, took their his car and returned home, the place he shared used to share with The Protagonist.

It was empty, expectedly, when he walked through the door, and the dread in his stomach grew, grew, and grew with all the intentions to eat him alive. He laid himself down the bed, unable to hold back tears because fuck, he just witnessed the love of his life died in front of him. He’d just seen it; it was all too real and not at the same time. He ran the scene back in mind, seeing himself in third person and thought of it as a stimulation only – something that he could return to and change. But, what’s happened, happened. It would always go down like that, Neil knew this. Neil had lived this life for so many years now, it was ingrained in his brain, but god, it was still such a painful truth to swallow.

 Or, maybe, it went like this: Neil got to The Protagonist just as the wound was inflicted, catching him on the way down. The Protagonist looked up at Neil, trying to come up with words but the wound took all of his breath away and Neil wept, begged for him to stay, don’t go just yet, they could get help, please. (You’re going to die in your best friend’s arms...)

 Or, possibly, it went like this: They managed to get The Protagonist back to home base. The wound wasn’t a fatal blow, and there might be a chance. Neil got to him just in time to stop the open wound from bleeding, pressing his hand to it as he barked orders for his team to call in the cavalry.

They got out of there, but barely, with The Protagonist on a stretcher, holding onto his life by the skin of his teeth. Neil’s eyes never left him, as the medics worked on him. It killed him not to come over and touch, to check for himself that The Protagonist was fine, would be fine, that he was going to get through this. But, he didn’t want to get in the way; he knew despite his medical trainings, he was still no experts compared to the ones who were working their asses out to keep his Protagonist alive right now.

But, the medics’ expressions were grim. They didn’t say anything, and the air in the escape vehicle was thick and suffocating. No one spoke; no one made a move. Most of them were still trying to catch their breath, while the rest was just like Neil, biting their nails and hoping for The Protagonist’s survival. They might not be as close to the man as Neil was, but he was still their boss – their teammate – and it was never a good feeling to see one of them go down.

When they finally return to base, they wheeled The Protagonist off into the operating room. Neil could do nothing but stand on the other side of the glass panel and watch, hands clenched in fists, thoughts running a marathon in his mind – all screaming, praying, begging for this to not be the end. But, that’s just not how this story goes (this time around). No, in this one, the medics came out with bad news to give, and Neil’s entire world crumbled.

 Or, it could also go like this: Neil didn’t go on that mission with The Protagonist and he only got to hear about it after the fact. He’d only get the chance to react to the news of it. The cup of coffee he was holding in his hand got dropped to the ground, and Neil’s was entirely unbothered by it. He wasn’t even aware, despite the deafening sound of glass breaking on hard wood.

“No,” he said, because it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t accept it. But, the look on the messenger’s face was serious, apologetic, and Neil felt like he couldn’t breathe, felt like all the air had been knocked out from his chest. It felt like all the light in Neil’s life had been put out, and he was drowned in darkness, and kept on drowning, sinking down, down, and down.

 It would take him a while – a long while – to recover. He went on more missions than he should, just to have something to occupy his time and, more importantly, mind. His superiors – the people who have now taken over The Protagonist’s place – would bench him but his results never faltered. He was trained by the best of them, after all, so how could they ever doubt him?

Then, later, when the time finally came, Neil would receive a file from his handler. His heart would jump as he opened it up and found The Protagonist’s handwriting, a note specified who this particular file should be delivered to and when. Neil would trace his fingers over it, to feel some residue of The Protagonist against his skin, then bite his lip until it bled, and read on.

Inside the file included the details of the mission he could not turn down – his very last one. He wasn’t going to turn it down, anyway, even if he could. There was nothing left for him in his present; in this timeline where The Protagonist was no longer. (What was a story without a protagonist, anyway?)

So, Neil accepted the mission in stride, knowing the he would never come back to this time again. He walked into the turnstile with determination in his eyes and shoulders squared, his team right by his side. The tenet team stationed in the past greeted them as they walked out; mission brief ready to fire off the moment every one of them settled.

 Meeting The Protagonist again was like having cold water poured over Neil’s head. It was unforgiving, devastating and a relief all the same. Like coming home to find the place all different, not yours any more, but some remnants of when it was were still there; you could feel it in your bones, but it wasn’t yours to claim.

At the opera house, Neil didn’t have the chance – couldn’t risk it – to stop and really take The Protagonist in, but there was no denying that it was him. Then, later, at the yacht club in Mumbai, Neil watched The Protagonist strut in with that same confident swagger Neil had missed so much. Neil’s heart did a tumble, a cartwheel, then crashed and burned at the bottom of his stomach.

It hurt like hell to see the love of your life again, after months of pushing aside the grief you should have taken the time to acknowledge if not process. It was like coming home again, knowing that this home wasn’t yours anymore. He was The Protagonist but he wasn’t Neil’s Protagonist. His face looked the same, if younger. His voice still sent a thrill down Neil’s vein, but left his mouth without any affection. His smile still made Neil’s heart flutter endlessly, still made Neil wanted to taste under his lips, but Neil knew he couldn’t. All the same, but so different, so far out of reach.

It hurt, too, to know what was waiting for The Protagonist – this Protagonist – in the future. Neil looked at him, and saw what was, essentially, a dead man walking. Still, Neil knew he couldn’t say anything, couldn’t warn him about the fate reality that was waiting for him in the distant future. Neil could say it was because of that goddamn ignorance policy, but honestly, he was just a coward.

The end of The Protagonist might have been written in stone, but so was his middle – the part where he met, recruited, befriended, then fell in love with Neil. Neil didn’t want to lose that; too much of a coward to think about what life would have been like if The Protagonist hadn’t approached him when he did; hadn’t done all the things with Neil like he did.

So, Neil took his cowardice and turned it into fuel. Made it the one thing that kept him going through this entire mission. What’s happened, happened. It wasn’t an excuse to do nothing, he told himself.

Then, he told The Protagonist as well, repeating it aloud like a mantra. He knew what was waiting for him once that chopper landed and he inverted, for the last time. It wasn’t hard to guess based on the pained expression on The Protagonist’s face.

So, Neil said goodbye to this Protagonist like he never did get the chance to his own. He said it was the end of a beautiful friendship because it was beautiful, and for him, with this Protagonist, friendship was all they shared. Home, but not Neil’s, yet. He promised The Protagonist as much, “We’ll get up to some stuff. You’ll love it,” because Neil knew he would. Neil had lived it with him, after all.

Their endings might not have aligned, but there would always be a beginning for them. In the past, in the future, all the same. They would meet again, unofficially, officially; in this life, in the next one; it didn’t matter. Their lives were intertwined, threads in red color braided together by reality itself.

Neil took comfort in that and smiled when he promised to see The Protagonist at the beginning. For now, though, he walked with resolution in his eyes and shoulders relaxed, finally processing his grief. Acceptance was the last step, and he took it in stride as he walked into the turnstile and returned to the hypocenter, all ready to finally return home, the one that was his; to reunite with his Protagonist once again.

[jewish-privilege]

Today should have been my funeral.

I was preparing to give my sermon Shabbat morning, Saturday, which was also the last day of Passover, the festival of our freedom, when I heard a loud bang in the lobby of my synagogue.

I thought a table had fallen down or maybe even that, God forbid, my dear friend Lori Gilbert Kaye had tripped and fallen. Only a few moments earlier I had greeted Lori there; she had come to services to say Yizkor, the mourning prayer, for her late mother.

I went to the lobby to check on her. What I saw in those seconds will haunt me for the rest of my days.

I saw Lori bleeding on the ground. And I saw the terrorist who murdered her.

This terrorist was a teenager. He was standing there with a big rifle in his hands. And he was now aiming it at me. For one reason: I am a Jew.

He started shooting. My right index finger got blown off. Another bullet hit my left index finger, which started gushing blood.

After the massacre in Pittsburgh, we had a community training. Now that training kicked in. Somehow my brain directed my body to the synagogue ballroom, where the children, including two of my grandchildren, were playing. I ran toward them screaming “Get out! Get out!” I grabbed as many as I could with my bloody hands and pushed them out of the building.

One of our congregants that day, Almog Peretz, a veteran of the Israeli Defense Forces, ran after me to help get the children to safety and took a bullet in the leg. His eight-year-old niece, Noya Dahan, took some shrapnel to hers. Then an amazing miracle occurred: The terrorist’s gun jammed. Two other heroic congregants — an Army veteran named Oscar Stewart and an off-duty border patrol agent named Jonathan Morales — rushed toward him and he fled.

The ambulances had not yet arrived. We all gathered outside. I don’t remember all that I said to my community, but I do remember quoting a passage from the Passover Seder liturgy: “In every generation they rise against us to destroy us; and the Holy One, blessed be He, saves us from their hand.” And I remember shouting the words “Am Yisrael Chai! The people of Israel live!” I have said that line hundreds of times in my life. But I have never felt the truth of it more than I did then.

I am a religious man. I believe everything happens for a reason. I do not know why God spared my life. I do not know why I had to witness scenes of a pogrom in San Diego County like the ones my grandparents experienced in Poland. I don’t know why a part of my body was taken away from me. I don’t know why I had to see my good friend, a woman who embodied the Jewish value of hesed (kindness), hunted in her house of worship. I don’t know why I had to watch Lori’s beloved husband, a doctor, faint as he tried to resuscitate her. And then their only daughter, Hannah, sob in agony as she encountered both her parents collapsed on the floor.

I do not know God’s plan. All I can do is try to find meaning in what has happened. And to use this borrowed time to make my life matter more.

I used to sing a song to my children, a song that my father sang to me when I was a child. “Hashem is here,” I would sing, using a Hebrew name for God, pointing with my right index finger to the sky. “Hashem is there,” I would sing, pointing to my right and left. “Hashem is truly everywhere.” That finger I would use to point out God’s omnipresence was taken from me.

I pray that my missing finger serves as a constant reminder to me. A reminder that every single human being is created in the image of God; a reminder that I am part of a people that has survived the worst destruction and will always endure; a reminder that my ancestors gave their lives so that I can live in freedom in America; and a reminder, most of all, to never, ever, not ever be afraid to be Jewish.

From here on in I am going to be more brazen. I am going to be even more proud about walking down the street wearing my tzitzit and kippah, acknowledging God’s presence. And I’m going to use my voice until I am hoarse to urge my fellow Jews to do Jewish. To light candles before Shabbat. To put up mezuzas on their doorposts. To do acts of kindness. And to show up in synagogue — especially this coming Shabbat.

I am a proud emissary of Chabad-Lubavitch, a movement of Hasidic Judaism. Our leader, the great Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, famously taught that a little light expels a lot of darkness. That is why Chabad rabbis travel all over the world to set up Jewish communities: I have colleagues in Kathmandu, in Ghana, as well as in Paris and Sydney. We believe that helping any human being tap into their divine spark is a step toward fixing this broken world and bringing closer the redemption of humanity. It is why 33 years ago my wife and I came to this corner of California to build a house of light.

Because we are obviously Jewish, identifiable by our black hats and beards, it has also meant that some of us have been targets before. Eleven years ago, my colleagues Rabbi Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg, who ran the Chabad of Mumbai, India, were murdered with four of their guests. They were targeted by the terrorist group Lashkar-e-Taiba because they were Jewish. And over the years people I know have been harassed and assaulted by thugs in the neighborhood where I grew up, Crown Heights, Brooklyn, in incidents that typically go unreported by the press.

In his vile manifesto, the terrorist who shot up my synagogue called my people, the Jewish people, a “squalid and parasitic race.” No. We are a people divinely commanded to bring God’s light into the world.

So it is with this country. America is unique in world history. Never before was a country founded on the ideals that all people are created in God’s image and that all people deserve freedom and liberty. We fought a war to make that promise real.

And I believe we can make it real again. That is what I pledge to do with my borrowed time.

[shystoryrebel]

Oxford bimari’ made this love story

When this ‘Oxford bimari’ hit the people, nobody could understand it like ‘China bimari.’ Nobody was bothered. It took everybody to the seventh cloud. I also joined lakhs of other people, running to Mumbai, Delhi and other big cities to fulfil their dreams. Suddenly men-women in my slum cluster started running away from Delhi and walking back to their lost ‘gaon’.

Perhaps all were scared of an unknown fear. ‘Gaon’? Nothing is left there. I have sold my land and mud house. Now, who will give me shelter and food there? It will be again another Delhi drama. No ration, no food, no salary. All 'lafda'. I hadn’t got my 'pagar' yet. The director of the firm was saying that he would be delaying the salary because of some ‘panga’ by the government. Hence I have to stay back and face China Corona.

But my parents were very worried about me. They called me. My mother was crying, and saying that my two younger sisters were wailing because they thought their brother will be killed by China ‘bimari’ in Delhi. But…I didn’t want to leave Shabana alone and go back to Bengal. Who would take care of my love if I leave her alone? She was a decent woman…and we have a special feeling for each other.

Shabana worked in the same office as I did as out-source employees and our company was the same. We disliked our director. He was worse than our village ‘thekedar’ and ‘zamindar’ who used to supply us for the ‘kohlu’ of the ‘zamindar,’ this out-sourcing was an Oxford ‘bimari’ exported to India by the great economist Dr.Man Mohan Singh. This was worst than ‘thekedari pretha.’  

When Usman drove in his white Audy car, to the office all of us who had been abused, slapped, kicked and punched by the brute director of the out-sourcing company, wanted to beat him, once and for all but…ironically, it was his oppression, that had made our relationship firm...Shabana and me.

An incident made Shabana mine. She shared a personal secret about her monthly periods and taken a few minutes off to rest on the side of the veranda. I saw Usman, walk up to her and to my surprise touched her forehead very softly. When she did not react, he held her by her hand and lifted her face. Shabana, come to my room and take rest. What were you doing in the night that you are so sick at work? He almost pulled her inside his air-conditioned room.

I felt very bad about this behaviour of Shababa going with Usman in his room. I was a very hot-headed man in my village. On the minor argument, I used to get into fights with elders and boys much elder to me. By the time, I was a young boy; I was like a bullfighter. My neck, shoulders, arms and legs were like ‘pehlwans,’ People avoided me and became wary of me.

I could not stop myself when I listened to the pleadings of Shabana, ‘chod do, chod do, mai mahine se hu.’ I rushed inside the room like a mad bull towards Usman…I wanted to kill Usman inside the room but Shabana stopped me. Usman’s face had turned pale as my first blow hit his face. ‘Leave my Shabnam alone..or I will kill you.’ He started trembling and yelled his private guards. Luckily, one of the guards was from my village and lived one street away from my house. He recognized me and stopped other guards and pacified Usma.

Slowly, I walked away…outside the office building. Shabana struggled to walk and followed me sadly. Head down, she walked fast, till she caught me. “Why did you beat Usman for me?” she asked. For the first time, she spoke to me, standing in front of a temple. Shabana gave her hand to me as God a witness. We have been living together in the ‘jhuggi’ of my friend to safeguard ourselves from ant further harassment by Usman and his men. She decided to accompany me to my villagers, when I had decided to walk back home to escape China ‘bimari.’

Our ‘jhuggi’ colony was sealed off and everyone was scary as if death will enter in each ‘jhuggi.’ Our office was closed. Our money finished and no other work to earn. The police were not allowing us to come out of the ‘jhuggis.’ Even for the toilet, we had to take the permission of the police and pay Rs. 2/= per visit. Very pitiable condition. Death was imminent. If we stayed there, the corona will kill us and if we walk back home we will die of hunger, heat and exhaustion.    

There was no place even in hospitals and graveyards. Not even for rich and big people. But for poor people like us, whether we die here, or on the road, or in the hospital, or of hunger, makes no difference. This is ‘meri Dilli’ a heartless city.

If I die here, there will be no claimant, neither for my body nor for any compensation. Some corrupt Dilli government ‘babu’ will swindle and claim the compensation. Shabana can’t get any of the two if she claims that he was my man because she doesn’t have the proper papers to claim the body or the compensation. So, better die in your village.

Shabana was ready to accompany me. Now, she can’t live without me. She always looks into my eyes. She was a young divorcee. I had seen so many others seeing her with voluptuous looks, even the rich in big cars. Her drug-addicted husband pronounced ‘talaq.’ For keeping her again he asked Shabana to perform ‘halala’ with his father, for which Shabana refused. So, she was pushed out of her husband’s house. Now, I will take her to my village and marry her.

I went out of my ‘jhuggi’ the last time in search of some food. The priest of Hanuman temple gave me a big ‘thali’ of delicious food. Shabana will be happy to eat this delicious food. We shared the ‘thali.’

Next morning we started to walk for our village hungry, bare food, no money, with a shattered dream. In all we were thirty people, some were with their little kids. We reached Ghaziabad. Suddenly, we heard a siren of a police car. Our blood froze. He took us all to the police station. Like an angel, he arranged food for us and gave milk for the children. He arranged a UP of the UP roadways.

In the bus, I read a newspaper. A fire in our ‘jhuggi’ cluster burnt all the ‘jhuggis’ that killed five people and injured many more. The list of the dead mentioned me and Shabana. The generous Chief Minister announced and distributed the compensation of rupees five lakhs each. The list of beneficiary included the kins of me and Shabana.

Neither of the two, the devastation or the corruption, are new; in fact, in most disaster stories they feature together. Yet, we rarely smiled to question how people can be so selfish in a world so narcissistic.

[kalyan-gullapalli]

Post # 145

Around the world in 15 months!

On 10th January, 1987, Trishna, a vintage yacht manned by a 10 member team from the Indian Army Corp of Engineers, returned to the Mumbai docks, after 15 months in sea, post completion of its extraordinary mission. The entire nation rejoiced!

So extraordinary was its feat that it was immediately decided that Trishna should be showcased on a dedicated tableau, in the Republic Day celebrations on 26th January, just 16 days later. This was easier said than done. The tableau had to be fabricated to the exact specs of the Ministry of Defence.

In response, the Indian Railways cut all the red tape and provided a carriage. The Naval Dockyard, Mumbai fabricated the boat cradle overnight on the railway carriage. The Indian Railways carried the boat and its cradle to New Delhi at express speed. The Bengal Engineer Group, Roorkee, sent their fabrication team and completed the fabrication work at Vijay Chowk itself since the boat with its 54 feet high mast could not be transported anywhere else in the capital. The tableau was cleared by the Ministry's internal committee well before the rehearsals commenced.

But what had the boat achieved to be feted in such a grand manner?

Actually, it had travelled round the world, quite literally. In technical terms, it has circumnavigated the earth. In fact, it was the first time Indians circumnavigated the earth, 500 years after Ferdinand Magellan became the first in the world to do so. The history of circumnavigation is in itself an interesting tale.

This mean looking man is Ferdinand Magellan, a Portuguese nobleman, born around 1480 as Fernão de Magalhães. He was a courtier under the patronage of Queen Eleanor and King Manuel I, in Lisbon. The young man had a sense of adventure and so joined the spate of Portuguese voyages designed to monopolize the lucrative spice routes to India. But he was accused of illegal trading and hence fell out of favor of Manuel I.

At that time, Portugal and Spain had an intense rivalry to find sea routes to spice havens in the Far East. So Magellan went to Spain, gained its citizenship and convinced King Charles V to grant him five ships to find a new sea route to East - not by traveling eastwards as was normally done, but by traveling westwards and circling the Earth, around the Americas, as was never done.

Magellan negotiated great wealth and status for himself for the trip. Charles V promised to give him a decade-long monopoly on any route he might discover, a cut of the profits, and a noble title to boot.

Though the trip was successful, Magellan did not survive to enjoy his riches. To begin with, his Spanish crew resented their Portuguese master. Next, a few months of sailing took them to what is modern day Argentina in South America. There, the ship was marooned for months because of bad weather. The crew mutinied. One ship was wrecked, one abandoned the expedition and headed back home. Magellan took control of the crew and the remaining ships by being brutal with the dissenters. He beheaded a few, enslaved a few and abandoned a few. Finally they set sail again.

As they crossed the Pacific, their food supplies got spoiled, starvation struck and so did scurvy. Some how, they reached Phillipines. In Phillipines, they unnecessarily got tangled in a war with the local chieftains and Magellan got killed!

His Spanish slave, Juan Sebastian Elcano captained the ship and brought it back to Spain in September, 1522, exactly three years after they began their expedition. So, technically Elcano was the first man to circumnavigate the Earth. But the credit goes to Magellan.

Though he lived 500 years ago, the legacy of Ferdinand Magellan lasted long beyond his lifetime. His trip proved to Europe, waking up from the dark ages, that the Earth was indeed round, there were no monsters at its previously imagined flat edges, that this round Earth could be circumnavigated, that this circumnavigation could be done for commerce, and that this commerce could cloak imperial ambitions.

One of the legacies of this first ever circumnavigation of the globe was the creation of a commercial enterprise in 1600 called the British East India Company, which came to the shores of the richest land on Earth to trade, took advantage of the ceaseless internecine quarrels of its small and big kingdoms, conquered them, ruled over this land, and in 200 years fleeced so much wealth that it became amongst the poorest lands on Earth.

The British claim they did a lot of good to India. That's debatable. But one good that happened because of them was the creation of the Bombay Engineer Group and Center (BeG & C), also called Bombay Sappers. Therein lies another mini-tale.

In 1774, the East India Company's Bombay army was involved in a battle with the Marathas. Unhappy with the poor state of engineering resources available with them, they wrote a letter to the Council of the East India Company in London requesting permission to import 25 German engineers. The proposal was accepted, but the Germans declined to come. So they had to make local arrangements. Hence was born the Pioneer Lascars in 1777, the forerunners of Bombay Sappers. In 1820, a Company was formed of these engineers - Bombay Sappers and Miners. Post independence, they became a regiment of the Corps of Engineers of the Indian Army.

Apart from being experts in combat support and peacetime emergency relief activities, the Indian Army Corps of Engineers became the pioneers of adventure sports in the country, whether on land, sea or air. They are also the pioneers of Ocean cruising in India.

In the early 1980s, Indian Army Corps of Engineers decided to take up the expedition of circumnavigating the earth. In 1984, a team of officers from the Corps of Engineers flew to the U.K. to buy a boat and sail it back to India. Limited funds dictated the purchase of a second-hand sailboat. After an extensive survey, the 1970-vintage Swan 37 boat Guinevere of Sussex was shortlisted. After purchase of the yacht, it underwent minor repairs to make it sail-worthy for the voyage back to India, where it was renamed Trishna, meaning Thirst.

On 28 September 1985, Trishna set sail from the Naval Sailing Club jetty at Colaba, Mumbai with General Arun Shridhar Vaidya, then-Chief of Army Staff accompanied by Lt. Gen. P.R. Puri, Engineer-in-Chief flagging off the First Indian Expedition Around the World.

The crew consisted of a team of 10 sailors, with 6 of them on the boat at any time. This is a photograph of six that started in Mumbai.

The then Prime minister, Rajiv Gandhi, wrote a message to the crew. I found a nice copy of it.

The crew sailed 30000 nautical miles in 15 months.

Trishna received an enthusiastic welcome at the Gateway of India, Mumbai on her arrival on 10th January, 1987, where she was received by General Krishnaswamy Sundarji, the Chief of the Army Staff, accompanied by a large gathering of sailors, Service officers, friends and relatives.

The crew of Trishna was also honoured with the Order of Merit by the Ocean Cruising Club which recognised the voyage as the first circumnavigation by an Indian yacht. The Government acknowledged this achievement by announcing awards for the whole crew on Republic Day, 1987.

A commemorative postage stamp was released by India Post as a tribute to Trishna.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 46

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @ocfairygodmother​

Everything hurts.

Back. Shoulder. Knee. Head. Especially the head.  A ferocious, pounding that has settled above and behind his eyes and in his temples.  Even the sliver of sunlight that manages its way past his heavy lids tortures him; an incessant burn that seems to travel right through every optic nerve and straight into his brain. And he winces and groans in agony and yanks the comforter up over his head, attempting to will away the throbbing and the slight nausea and lightheadedness.

He can’t remember the last time he had a hangover; body and mind so accustomed to a lifestyle of excessive drinking that they’d stopped being affected. The worst that would happen would be passing out and staying that way for ten to twelve hours. Sometimes even longer depending on many Oxy he’d taken.  There were days -more often than not- where’d he wake up disappointed; upset that no matter how much he’d had to drink and how many pills he popped, he was still alive; stuck in a shitty, miserable existence filled with enormous guilt and regret and unlimited self loathing.

But this...this suffering takes him back to his high school days; drinking too much at house parties or at get togethers on the beach and then passing out whenever he was standing or sitting at the time. The mornings after were always brutal; the headaches and dizziness, the way you tongue felt thick and dry and it seemed as if your mouth was stuffed with cotton. And the nausea. That queasy, unsettled feeling in the pit of your stomach and the burn of bile in your throat.

He regrets it. Every shot, every pitcher of beer he helped drain, every sip of scotch. And he wishes he’d never even agreed to ever go to that bar; option for a quiet night at home instead of all the noise and all those people. All that booze. It’s a blur; the crowd, too many conversations happening at once, the deafening music, the lights way too bright. And Millie’s teacher. Propositioning him at the bar. Making comments about his scars and asking about his job and assuming his marriage was in trouble and he was willing to ‘hook up’.  THAT’S going to make trips to the school awkward.  Parent/teacher interview night should be a lot more interesting and entertaining now, having to sit across from someone who is supposed to be educating your kid but weeks or months ago wanted your dick and you had to shoot them down.

It’s like a cocoon under the heavy, down filled blanket; a warm, confined, safe place. Quiet and relaxing. Secure. As if nothing exists outside of it. Just him and that soft body pressed tightly against his. The smell of her hair as he nestles his face against the back of her neck; the heat that radiates off her enough to soothe some of his aches and pains.  He needs this time. The minutes. The hours. The moments were it’s just them. Where the world around them is silent and still and life seems as if it’s at a standstill. In less than two weeks, these moments will cease to exist. At least temporarily. He’ll be in Mumbai; in the stifling heat and the oppressive humidity, making his way through the list of names Anil had given him. Checking them off one by one if he has to. Leaving nothing but a trail of blood and broken bodies in his wake.

He pushes those thoughts away. It’s the last thing he wants to be thinking about. Mumbai. Mahajan and his people. How long he’ll actually be gone for. If he’ll even make it back.  All he wants to do is concentrate on the next ten days. On their get away to The Kimberley; four days and three nights alone with his wife. No kids to worry about -although they will from afar- and no interruptions and time to actually talk and pay attention to what is being said. And Millie’s birthday party. Newly six with all her classmates and her new puppy; completely oblivious to the treats being made and the stress her parents are under. He’s no longer anxious about it; the nightmares of Austin taking her from them have stopped and the illogical fear of her waking up deathly ill is starting to subside. It’s still there; the inkling of worry that something could go wrong. But with each that passes where she’s healthy and happy and strong, that concern lessens.

Right now he focuses on what’s right in front of him. That soft, supple body pressed against him. Her back to his front and one of his legs draped over hers and the tip of his nose against the side of her neck.  HE blindly searches for one of her hands; lacing his fingers with hers and then placing a series of feathery kisses along her jaw. And she stirs against him when he reaches the corner of her mouth; eyes never opening as she turns her face into his. The resulting kiss is long and slow. Lazy. Bare legs sliding against each other; her fingers tightening around his as she lays their joined hands against her stomach.

Esme pulls back to look at him; eyes half open, brow slightly furrowed. “Why do you smell so good all of a sudden? And why do I taste mint?”

“I got up in the middle of the night and took a shower. Brushed my teeth.”

“I told you that you smelled awful.You know it’s bad when you can’t stand your own stench.”

“I actually did it because I couldn’t sleep.”

“That drunk and you couldn’t sleep? That’s a first. It used to knock you out for at least eight hours.”

Tyler shrugs. “Slept for a couple hours, woke up, couldn’t go back.”

“Did the baby wake up?”

“She slept through.”

Frowning, she brings his hand up to check his watch. “It’s quarter after six. She’s been sleeping since eleven. That’s weird for her. Did you check on her?”

“Twice.”

She arches an eyebrow.

“Okay, it was three times. I can’t help it. I worry. Doesn’t matter if it’s the first or the fifth. But she’s fine. Just not hungry. Doctor said to let her sleep if she doesn’t wake up to eat.”

“She’s tiny. VERY tiny. She needs to eat.”

“She’s tiny like her mom. She’s not going to be like the rest of them. She’s fine. Just let her sleep. The longer they all sleep the better.”

“I know why you’re saying that,” she says with a grin, and rolls over to face him. “You’re hopeful.”

“A little.”

“Just a little?” She pushes a hand through his hair, nails lightly digging into the back of his neck as she presses her lower body against his. “Feels like a lot.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”

“I’m surprised you’re even coherent this morning. You were pretty trashed. Do you remember anything?”

“I remember you changed the lock on the door,” he teases.

“I did not change the lock. You just forgot how keys work.”

“And I know I didn’t get any.”

“And…”

“And I know I had a mental breakdown and cried like a little bitch.”

She scowls. “First off, you’re not a little bitch. Far from it. You wouldn’t have all those scars and had all those broken bones or concussions or all that time in the hospital if you were a little bitch. A little bitch is not capable of doing the things you can do. Second, you were emotional. So what? I like that side of you. The who isn’t afraid to cry. It’s very sexy. A man that shows emotion.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she presses a kiss to his lips. “ Beside, if you can’t be emotional in front of me, who can you be emotional in front of?”

“No one. There’s only you.”

“Exactly. So stop being so worried about it making you soft. Or weak. You are neither of those things. You never have been.”

“I don’t know. I distinctly remember you having to help me to the bathroom when I used to come home on the weekends from the rehab place.”

“You’d just gotten over being shot in the throat. Among other things. No one is going to fault you for needing some help. You used to do things like that for me. All the times I’ve been pregnant. You'd help me into the bathtub, you’d tie my shoes for me, you’d put up with my three am cravings.”

“I’m supposed to take care of you,” he says. “I’m the guy.”

“This is a two way street, buddy. We do things for each other. So I don’t want to hear any of your toxic masculinity bullshit. That’s your father talking.”

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“You could NEVER be like him. You’d never let yourself get like that. I’D never let you get like that. You’re not your father, Tyler. You’re so far from it. You’re a good husband and you’re a great feather. Our kids love you. They don’t fear you.”

“Do you?”

“What? Fear you? No. And I never have. Why would you even ask that?”

“What about in Dhaka? When I grabbed your throat. Were you scared then?”

“Nope. You were angry. You reacted. Yes, you reacted BADLY.  But I could see it in your eyes. You weren’t going to hurt me. It was the last thing you wanted to do. I wasn’t scared of you then, and I’m not scared of you now.”

“You’d tell me though, right? If I ever did? Scare you?”

“I wouldn’t just tell you. I’d probably throat punch you.”

He chuckles at that.

“You may intimate and scare the people you’re supposed to intimate and scare, but I’ve never felt that way with you. I know you in ways those people don’t. And I know you’re not capable of hurting me or the kid. You’re a good man. You’re a GREAT man. And I wish you’d realize that. I wish you’d see yourself the way I see you.”

He tucks wayward strands of hair behind her ear. “How do you see me?”

“I see you as strong. Brave. Fiercely loyal and protective. I see you as the sexiest, most beautiful man in the world. I see you as an amazing father. As my best friend. My biggest supporter. My lover. My husband. I see you as all those things.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Well you’re a big man,” she reasons, and then smiles when he presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose. “You’re a big man with an even bigger heart. You just sometimes have to do bad things. To bad people.”

“It makes sense you know, that I’d end up with you. Someone that lived that life. That knows what it’s like. No one else would be able to deal with it. Accept it. Knowing that I’ve killed people. That I’m going to KEEP killing people.”

“It’s not all you do,” she reminds him. “The number of people you’ve helped is a lot higher than the people you’ve killed. But you’re right. Someone who’s never lived that life wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t be able to deal with it.”

“Guess I’m pretty lucky you showed up at my place that day.”

“I don’t know, I think I’m pretty lucky too. After everything that I went through with Mark; all the things he did to me. All the damage he caused. You came along and you fixed all of that. You fixed ME. You came into my life when I’d given up on finding someone that would love me. I’d given up on MYSELF. He made me feel like nothing and you make me feel like something. Every time you look at me or touch me or kiss me or we make love. You make me feel beautiful and amazing and worthy. All the things I’d never felt before. All the things I never thought I could be.”

“You ARE all those things.”

“Because you’re the one that brought them out. Who makes me feel all of that. You talk about how lucky you are, but I’m just as lucky. If not more. You talk about how I saved you, but you never think about how you saved me.

He doesn’t think about it. He’s never even considered it outside of the decisions he’d made to get her safely across the Sultana Kamal Bridge. And even now he questions those decisions from time to time; if there’d been a way he could have avoided sending her with Ovi and Saju, or anything he could have done differently to prevent the near catastrophic ending. But he’s never thought beyond those things. Never actually considering just how he was helping her heal and get over the trauma that Mark had caused. Just doing it. Just doing whatever he had to and hoping for the best.

“I don’t think you understand how loved you actually are,” she says “By me. By your children. We’d be pretty lost and miserable without you.”

Swallowing around the lump of emotion that sits square in his throat, he combs his fingers through her hair; pushing it off her forehead and placing a soft kiss against the smooth skin. It’s those little kisses that she often enjoys the most. The ones to the brow or the cheeks or temple or against ears or along her jaw. Even those repetitive pecks to the lips; the ones where you pull back and smile at each other between each one. Those small intimate moments...brief snippets...where they connect outside of simply raising a family together.

“We’ll go to Mumbai,” she tells him, as she rests her forehead against the bridge of his nose; fingers racing the tattoo on his left shoulder. “IF you can get us a safe place to stay. IF you talk to Anil and he can help you find something. With people keeping an eye on things and armed guards or whatever else or whoever else needs to be there to keep Mahajan away.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Tyler promises. “I don’t think there’s much he CAN’T do.”

“You’ll have to tell him about the puppy. We can’t give Millie a puppy for her birthday and then expect her to be separated from him. That’s cruel.”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll get everything worked out.”

“Because it would make me feel a lot better too if you weren’t so far away. Even being in the same county would be better. Not thousands of miles between us. I need that for my own piece of mind. If anything happens to you or any of the kids, it’s better if neither of us are too far away.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you or the kids,” he confidently assures her.

“I notice you didn’t put yourself in there.”

He gives a small, tight lipped smile.

“You’re going to be okay too,” she says, as her fingers move to the ink on his neck and the scar -one of many- left behind from Dhaka.  “Like you said, you’ll be able to focus better if we’re close and you’re constantly worrying about what’s going on here. And you need to be focused. You need to be able to put all your attention into things and I know you’ll be able to if the kids and I are there.”

He lays a hand on the side of her face and kisses her softly. “Thank you. I know it’s not easy for you to do this. Especially with the kids.”

“It’s just better this way. If we’re not far apart. What you said last night...if something did happen and you did die over there…” her voice cracks and tears well in her eyes. “...I mean, I know it’s not going to happen and I hate even thinking about it and I feel horrible for saying it and…”

“Calm down,” he gently implores.  “Just breathe. Everything’s fine.”

“...and I know you’re going to be okay. But hypothetically speaking, if something did happen and you didn’t make it, I don’t want you being stuck there. If I’m already there, I can find you and bring you home. I don’t want you being left there. I’d want to bring you back where I know you’d be finally able to rest.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he pushes a hand through her hand and tightly grips the back of her head as he kisses her forehead. “Nothing like that’s going to happen.”

“I know. But it makes me feel better to know if something does, you won’t be left there.”

“I meant what I said you know. About you finding someone else. I will haunt him.”

She laughs at that, and he gently brushes her tears away with his fingertips. “There wouldn’t be anyone else. I don’t want anyone else. You’re it for me. Wherever it’s next month of fifty years down the road.

“I’m hoping for the fifty years.”

“Me too. You’re still going to love me when I’m wrinkled and gray and can barely hear anymore?”

“I’m going to love you always. No matter what.”

Smiling, she presses a kiss to his lips and then tucks her head snuggly under his chin; hands sliding around to the nape of his neck and up onto the back of his head.

“Everything’s going to work out.” he promises, as he drops a kiss on the top of her head and wraps both arms around her.

And he holds her, as tightly as she’ll allow, until the sounds of life...THEIR life...begin stirring in the rooms above.

****

“So do we tell the kids to call you Uncle Koen or Grandpa Koen?” Esme asks as they sit in the surf. Koen in a lawn chair with his  feet in the water and her on the ground beside him’ Addie between her legs and resting back against her stomach.

He frowns down at her. “Grandpa? How old do you think I am?”

“According to Tyler, you were already wet behind the ears when the Pony Express was still delivering the man.”

“That little fucker,” Koen scoffs. “He’s starting to forget that he’s no spring chicken himself. Gonna hit the big four-one soon. You think he’d be starting to slow down, not getting ready to speed things back up again.”

“He’s not the type that can still for too long. He always has to be doing something.”

“Well you think having little ones to chase around and care for would give him ‘something’. He’s got five of them. How he’s not worn out from all of them rugrats, I certainly don’t understand.”

“It’s a different pace,” she reasons. “”He was used to something much more strenuous. Faster. Unpredictable.”

“Dangerous.” Koen offers.

She nods, then tightens the strap on Addie’s sunhat. “Unfortunately.”

“I don’t know if he told you or not, but when he came out to my place a couple weeks back, I gave him quite the talking to. About getting back into things. About becoming a merc again and starting his own business. Basically told him he’s a fucking dumb ass. Pardon my language around little ears.”

“Oh, she’s heard way worse already, trust me. Tyler has no filter. Millie already knows all the worst words and she doesn’t hesitate when it comes to using them. She’s got a month on her. And it’s all daddy’s fault.”

“He’s a good one, ain’t he,” Koen remarks, as he takes a pull from the bottle of beer in his hand. “A daddy.”

“He is. He’s an amazing dad.” There’s a smile on her face as she says it, and she scoops up a handful of water and sprinkles it along Addie’s legs. “He’s gentle and he’s loving but he doesn’t coddle them. Treats them like intelligent little beings instead of babying them all the time. He’s so good with them. And they adore him. They worship the ground he walks on, actually. Especially Millie. There’s no one on earth she loves like she loves her daddy. And God help anyone that tries to take him away from her. She will pitch a fit like no other. She will throw down with someone if they mess with daddy; no doubt in my mind.”

Koen grins. “So she’s basically her mom that way.”

“Yeah,” Esme laughs. “I’d throat punch someone if they hurt him or messed with him. I’ve seen him go through too much. No one is going to fuck with him on my watch. But he is. A good dad. He’s an incredible dad, honestly. I swear he has the patience of a saint. You know, it’s weird. When I first found out about Millie, I was so scared to tell him. We barely knew each other and he was in the hospital and in constant pain and trying to heal and going through all kinds of therapies and I thought the last he needed was something like that. And he was freaked out, but he wasn’t THAT freaked out, know what I mean?”

Koen nods.

“I think I was losing it more than he was,” she continues. “And I told him that I didn’t expect anything from him; if he didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby, I’d leave and never contact him again. That things were so screwed up and I didn’t want to force him to be a dad. That was the last thing I wanted. Not when he already had so much on his plate.”

“Not surprised he didn’t go for that,” Koen remarks. “Knowing he had a kid on the way and having already lost one. He wasn’t letting the chance to to be a daddy again get away from him. Gave him something to live for. Made all the pain and suffering during the aftermath of that Dhaka bullshit worth it. He had something to look forward to; something to keep going. And I’m not talking about just the baby and you know it.”

She smiles.

“He was pretty crazy about you even then, even if it did scare him. He told me as much. That you scared him.”

Esme glances over her shoulder. “He said that about me?”

Koen nods. “He was pretty into it. Into you. Freaked him out; feeling things like that about someone he just met. Last girl who made him feel things like that...well that didn’t end so well, did it.”

“No. It didn’t. I only met her that one time. When his dad brought her to the hospital. What a disaster THAT was.”

“Could have throttled ‘em both,” Koen scowls. “Neither had a right to be there. That old man is better off dead. What he did to that boy when he was growing up? What he did to his mother? He should be in hell where he belongs. And that Sarah?” he scoffs. “What a train wreck THAT was. Don’t think there wasn’t around she wasn’t fucking around on him. I used to tell him to just let her go. Kick her ass out. But he wouldn’t do it. And then she got knocked up and that was that. Used to question if the kid was even his. Looked nothing alike and the kid didn’t look anything like his mother, either. But…” he swigs his beer. “...he stuck around. Felt he was doing the right thing, I suppose.”

“Like he did with me?”

“He didn’t just stick around for the baby and you know it.  Naw, he was pretty deep into it already. He didn’t say it, but I could see it. The way his eyes would light up the second you walked in the room. Even his voice would change when he talked about you. I hadn’t heard that or seen that in him in a hell of a long time. That’s when I knew you were a keeper. If you could make a man like THAT...a man with all that darkness and all those issues...actually smile and feel like life’s worth living? Well I’m glad you stuck around.”

She grins and nudges his leg with her elbow. “Koen, you big softie.”

“I know he ain’t the easiest of bastards to live with. You deserve some kind of award for putting up with the likes of him. I’m not married to him and even I want to kill him sometimes.”

“It seems like forever ago,” she says.  “So much has happened since then. Since Dhaka. My family didn’t think we’d even make it past a year. It’s been seven since we met. We’ve been married for six and a half. We went from one kid to five. That’s surreal.”

“Fucking insane is what it is. You’re both right out of your damn minds. Repopulating the world all on your own.”

“He wants an even half dozen. I’m not too sure about that. I’m not quite sold on the idea yet.”

“He does realise he can have the fun of making babies not but not actually make any, yeah?”

Esme laughs at that. “He’s got in his head that he needs to leave a legacy behind. Some kind of proof that he did something good with his life. He doesn’t realize that he’s many good things. And he doesn’t need to prove that to anyone. Not even to himself.”

“Stubborn bastard that one,” Koen says, and then glances down the beach to where Ovi and Tyler are immersed in conversation while Declan stands at the edge of the water, tossing tennis balls into the ocean for Sadie and Mac to fetch.   “He’s pretty fond of that kid, ain’t he.”

Esme uses her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looks over at what’s caught his attention. “Ovi’s pretty fond of him, too. He always has been. Even in Dhaka. Especially near the end. He looks up to Tyler. Respects him. Wants to emulate him. We’ve both spent five and a half years trying to get him out of that, but…” she shrugs and turns her attention back to Addie. “...it didn’t work. He adores Tyler. He’s the dad Ovi should have had. The one I wish he COULD have had. He even calls him dad. Not to his face, but he refers to him as his dad. When he was still in school and would talk about his dad, people would be so confused when Tyler would show up to things. He was NOT what they were expecting. But Ovi’s ours. We look at him like he is. We love him like he is.”

Koen nods slowly, considering her words. “Think we can trust him?”

“Who? Ovi? Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

“He’s been in contact with his old man, hasn’t he?”

“Not by choice. He’s still terrified of him. That man is a monster. He’s ruined so many lives.  Even his own son’s. I hate thinking about what would have happened to Ovi if we’d left him in Mumbai.”

“Kid seems pretty torn up every time someone mentions doing away with the old man.”

“It’s not easy to hear. That people want to kill your father. That they ARE going to kill him. Even if the old man is Satan himself, he’s still his father.”

“What about his mother? Does he have one?”

“She died when he was three. I don’t know how. He doesn’t like to talk about it and I don’t pressure him. I don’t even know if Tyler knows. I have my suspicions about what happened to her, but that’s all they are. Suspicions.”

“You think the old man had something to do with it?”

“It’s possible. I mean, he’s a horrible person. Look what he did to Saju; who’d been nothing but loyal to him. It wouldn’t surprise me if his wife didn’t tow the line and he got rid of her.”

“Think he’d tell him? That we’re coming?”

“I doubt it. Ovi wants this nightmare over just as much as any of us do. Why?” she glances up at him. “You don’t trust him?”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea that the kid comes along is all.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea that ANY of you are going,” she says. “But I hardly have a say in it. I can’t stop Tyler from doing this. No one can. He’s doing it to protect me. And our kids. You don’t fuck with his family. He’s fiercely protective; sometimes to a fault. But I trust when he says he’s going to end this. He won’t stop until every one of those men on the list are dead. And to be honest, I don’t want him to.”

“So you’re okay with this? This whole idea? Mumbai?”

“No. But if Tyler says this is what has to be done, it needs to be done. I trust him. He’s the one person I DO trust. Especially when it comes to my kids.”

“What about getting back into the job? Being a merc okay? You’re okay with that?”

“I told him if that’s what he needed to do...if he needs that escape so badly and it would keep him sane and happy...that he should go back. And having the business means he won’t have to be so hard core into it. He won’t have to be away from home so much. Because I need him here. So do the kids. He’ll be in the job, but not right in it. And I’m good with that.”

Koen frowns. “He should be home all the damn time. With you. With his kids. None of this job shit. He needs to let that go. That part of him. He needs to walk away from it and never look back.”

“But he can’t,”  Esme says. “It won’t let him rest. Not yet. And I need it to. I need it to let him go. And it’s not going to. I don’t know if it ever will.”

“And if it doesn’t? Let him go?”

“We make it work, I guess. We have to somehow make it work and cope with it. I know it doesn’t make much sense; that I’m doing all of this. But I love him. So much it physically hurts sometimes. And if it’s the only thing that’s going to keep him sane and functioning, I have to give him that.”

“You’re a lot more understanding than I would be. I’d be kicking his ass out. Making stupid decisions like that.”

“You know as well as I do that when Tyler’s mind is set on something, you can’t change it. Things will be better this time. Different. Now that he’s the boss, he can stay behind the scenes and let everyone else get their hands dirty. And this will be good for him; it’ll give him something to do. A sense of purpose. He doesn’t feel like he has that right now.”

“That’s bullshit,” Koen snarls. “He’s got all kinds of purpose. He’s got you, the kids…”

“It doesn’t make sense, I know. But that’s how his brain is working. It makes sense to Tyler and that’s what matters. And I’m worried about him and I need you to keep an eye on him. Because he’s been struggling, Koen. Badly. With the PTSD and the depression and the anxiety.”

“And the drinking.”

She sighs. “And the drinking. Six months. He was sober for half a year. He was doing so good. And then all this started and it went to hell and now look where we are. Look how drunk he was last night. He was a mess. And I’m pissed off that none of you tried to stop him. You just let him do it. Get that out of control. When you saw him getting that bad, why didn’t any of you step in?”

“I have no excuse for that,” Koen admits. ”No reasons. I should have. Stepped in and got him to stop when things got out of hand. But he’s not an easy man to control and…”

“If I can stop him, any of you can. I’m five foot nothing. He’s six three. He has a hundred pounds on me, if not more. If I can talk sense into him, there’s no reason why you couldn’t have done it. And then you bring him home like THAT? So I can deal with him. So I can be the one that takes care of a grown ass man AND five kids.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I’m…”

“And now he’s going to Mumbai. On a job. And I’m supposed to trust him with you guys. I’m supposed to trust that you’ll have his back and that you won’t let him do anything stupid. And I’m not just talking about drinking. I’m talking about the job. If guys don’t have his back, he might as well be going there alone.”

“We have his back,” Koen assures her. “One hundred percent,”

“I hope so. I really do. Because I need him to come home, Koen. Alive. I need my husband and my kids need their father.  And I need you guys to watch over him. To make sure he comes back. I need to know that he’s going alone out there. That he has people he can trust.”

“He’s got us,” Koen says. “We’ve got him. We’ll make sure he comes home. He’s smart. He’s tough. Resilient. Nothing’s going to stop him from getting the job done and hauling ass back here. He knows he’s got a good thing. May not always say it or show it, but he knows. And if he ever forgets, you just call me and I’ll come here and beat his ass into the middle of next week.”

“Whose ass are you beating now?”  Tyler asks, as he and Ovi join them, the latter wading out into the water with Declan on his hip.

“Yours,” Koen directs a kick at his friend’s back side before he can take a seat in the sand. “If you’ve been hurting for a good ass kicking for a long time, I reckon. Surprise this little thing hasn’t brought you to your knees yet.”

“Oh she has. She’s brought me to them many times. Just not the way you’re thinking.”

Esme snorts and digs an elbow into her husband’s side.

“He knows we have sex,” Tyler reasons. “It’s not a secret. We have five kids.”

“I was telling her that if you didn’t treat her right, I’m going to come here and beat your ass,” Koen says. “And then I’m gonna steal her away and let her see what a real man can do for her.”

Tyler smirks. “Where you gonna find a real man?”

“You cheeky fucker. How do you put up with him, kid? How do you tolerate his shit?”

“He puts up with me,” Esme says. “I’m not the easiest person to live with. But he’s still here. For some reason.”

“Trust me when I say it’s NOT her cooking,” Tyler says, and then leans into her with his shoulder; giving her a playful wink and a kiss on the cheek before taking Addie from her. Laying the baby along both forearms, her head in his palms as he carefully lowers her into the water. “And you have to kill me old man. To get her away from me. That really the hill you want to die on?”

“I think the two are made for each other,” Koen grumbles.

“Yeah…” Tyler grins at her. “I think we are too.”

****

Dinner with Anil and Allison had gone well. Both extremely pleased  -and grateful- with the deal that had been quickly reached. The former had offered up his own home in Mumbai for Esme and the kids (and the new puppy, once he’d heard what the name was); an extremely well guarded and safe estate within its own locked and secure five acre compound. He immediately understood Tyler’s need to have his family close and Esme’s fear of being too far away if the worst case scenario came to fruition. The thought of a body not being returned home would be far more distressing than the actual death itself. Every job holds the possibility of not coming back; that is something you come to expect and learn to live with. But the thought of not having your loved one come back to you at all, is a bitter and horrible pill to try and swallow. It’s happened with many mercs; gruesome deaths and the inability of anyone to go and recover the body. Another reason why many die single; no spouse, girlfriend, or significant other willing to deal with such a high price.

Everything will be handled by Anil and his people; twenty four house staff and heavily armed guards and an elaborate security system. Bedrooms for all the children and everything needed properly to care for a baby; toys and bikes and whatever the kids need to keep them occupied and happy, even an offer of tutors to come in and work on school tasks. No expense being spared. For Tyler it makes the stress and the worry easier to bear; knowing that not only will he not be separated from his family by thousands of miles, every effort will be put into keeping them safe. They’ll arrive two days after him, and he’ll be staying at a different location; bouncing from hotel to hotel with Nathan, Ovi, Koen, and Anil. It’s far safer to keep moving then to settle down in one spot; staying at the house would only bring unnecessary attention to Esme and the kids. When deemed safe by the security, visits -including overnight- would be allowed. It isn’t the best arrangement, but a necessary one.

Tyler stands in the kitchen doorway and watches as she moves around the room; finishing the kids’ school lunches, mixing bottles of formula (to give Koen and Ovi at least a couple days head start) and dropping three frozen waffles into the toaster. She’s still clad in the dress she’d work to dinner. Classic black and off the shoulder; fitting like a second skin and reaching just below the knee. He’d been rendered speechless when she’d first walked out of the bedroom hours earlier; not remembering the last time he’d seen her like THAT. She’s always beautiful in his eyes. Whether it’s fresh out of the shower or when she first wakes up in the morning and her eyes are still puffy and blurry from sleep and her hair is a mess. Or even she’s been up for two days caring for a colicky baby. But that...with her hair up and make up and that dress showing off every curve that carrying five children has graced her with...is a beauty that surpasses all.

“Hey,” she cheerfully greets, as she glances up while buttering the waffles. “Kids asleep?”

“All five.”

“I don’t know how Ovi does it. He’s got that magic touch or something. Every time he watches them, they’re all asleep when we get home. Not one of them is awake. How? How does he do it? We put them to bed and we spend two hours fetching drinks of water and herding them back to their rooms.”

“Maybe he drugs them. Maybe THAT’S his secret. It’s not magic. He puts tranqs in that water.”

“Maybe he can give me some, then. I could use a couple right now. Or half a dozen. At least dinner went well. Anil’s pretty reasonable, don’t you think?” She takes a bite out of one of the waffles. “There wasn’t one thing he didn’t agree with. About me and the kids coming to Mumbai.”

“He’s a businessman. He knows what people want to hear and he knows how to give them what they want. And he’s got all the money in the world apparently.”

“How does a guy like him get so rich? What did he do before what he does now?”

“He was special forces. Same as Saju.”

“And in only seven years he’s become THAT rich?”

“Have you seen what he charges people for his services. He charges twice as much...if not more...than he pays his employees. You think it hurt him to give us what he did? That’s probably pocket change to him. Even AFTER he pays us and our mercs, it doesn’t start to scratch the surface.”

“Just seems weird. For it to happen THAT quick.”

“Look how quick we got money. Not just from him. Look what happened in Ireland. Five million for ten minutes of work.”

“You and I remember Ireland very differently.”

“It wasn’t THAT bad.” He grabs two bottles of water from the fridge, a jar of vegemite from the cupboard, and a knife from the drainboard by the sink, then joins her at the island.

“Says the guy who got hit in the head with a metal shovel. You and your fetish for garden tools.”   She frowns when he opens the jar of vegemite and reaches for one of the waffles. “Please tell me you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

“Please don’t eat that stuff in front of me. You know I hate that stuff.”

“It’s good shit.”

“It is not good shit. Oh my God…” she dramatically gags when he spreads vegemite on the waffle. “...Tyler James...ughhh...you’re gross.”

“You used to eat peanut butter sandwiches with onions AND hot peppers on it and you call me gross?”

“I was pregnant with Declan,” Esme argues. “I had weird ass cravings with him. None of my cravings with the other ones were that bad.”

“I don’t know. I remember you putting strawberry jelly on pizza when you were having the twins. Remember the ice cream when you were having Millie? Rocky road and I’d have to melt peanut butter and put that AND chocolate sauce on it.”

“Oh my god that was so good. You even liked it.”

“I swear I put on twenty five sympathy pounds.”

“You needed to. You lost a lot of weight after Dhaka. And now look at you. All thick and muscley and a whole week's worth of snacks. With your massive forearms and big thighs and your cute butt that sticks out.”

Tyler grins. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe. Is it working? Do you like it? If we were in a bar and I started chatting you up, would you let me pick you up?”

“I would definitely nail you in the bathroom.”

“That’s it? What if I complimented your big forearms and hands and called your eyes pretty?”

“I would have let you take me home. For sure.”

“Would you have called me the next day?”

“Yup. I know how good your head game is.”

“So THAT’S why you stick around. You don’t want the long hunt funding someone who does it just right.”

“That’s one of the reasons.”

“What are the other ones?”

“I love you. You’ve given me five beautiful children. And a reason to live.”

She smiles at that, and he leans in to kiss her. “Ewww,” she grimaces. “Vegemite.”

“Try a little bit,” he implores.

“I’ve tried it. I hate it.”

“Just a bit. You might not like it now.”

“I’m never going to like it. Don’t!” she pushes his hand away when he holds the waffle near her mouth. “Get it away from me.”

“It’s not THAT bad.”

“I will puke on you,” she warns. “And not even apologize.”

“Here.” He grabs a hold of the back of her head with one hand and presses the food to her lips with the other.

“You fucker!” She playfully shoves him away, then vigorously wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. “Oh god. I can taste it. I’m never going to get rid of that taste.”

“You’ve had worse things in your mouth.”

“You’re gross,” she grumbles, and grabs one of the bottles of water. “You’re gross and a pig and I don’t know how I put up with you. That is so nasty. YOU’RE nasty. That’s not friends.”

“Is that what we are?” he grins. “Friends?”

“With benefits. Which you’re getting any of for a while doing shit like that.”

“Come here…” He reaches out and tangles his fingers in her hair and pulls her into him.

“I’m not kissing you when you’re eating that stuff. No way.”

“Not even if I tell you that you looked amazing tonight? Not even if I tell you that you were the most beautiful woman there and that I was so fucking proud that you were there with me? Will you kiss me then?”

“I suppose,” she dramatically sighs, and then lays her hand on the side of his face as he covers her lips with his in a long, slow, deep kiss. The tip of his tongue skimming along the rough of her mouth before he draws away. “By the way,” she says. “You clean up pretty good. You haven’t worn one of these…” she tugs on the tie -now worn loosely- around his neck. “...since we got married.”

“You like it?”

“I do. It’s handsome and it’s distinguished and very sexy. But I think I prefer the way you usually dress. More casual. Jeans and t-shirts with holes in them and baseball hats. And board shorts. We can’t forget your board shorts. All thirty pairs of them.”

“It’s really only twenty eight, but…”

She grins as he presses a kiss to the tip of her nose. “That’s the Tyler I know. And I can’t lie. The thought of seeing you in a tactical vest again...all sweaty and dirty...it kind of turns me on. Just a bit.”

“Just a bit, huh?”

“Just a tiny bit. Like a lot. Like a lot, lot.”

“I’ll have to make conjugal visits. Leave the vest on when I come over.”

“I might not be able to control myself. I might throw you down and have my way with you.”

“I wouldn’t put up a fight. Just saying.”

“I know why you can’t stay with us. I totally get it. But it still kind of sucks.”

“Yeah,” Tyler nods. “It does. But at least we’re in the same country. Hopefully in the same city. Or close by.”

“I’ll feel better knowing you’re THAT close. The kids won’t understand why they can’t see you.”

“We’ll figure something out to tell them. At least they’ll know that I’m not far away and I can get to them pretty quick if I have to.”

She nods.

“It’s all going to work out,” he promises, and lays a hand on the side of her head and presses a kiss to her temple. “I have something for you.”

“You do, do you?”

“One of your surprises from the other day. From the kids. They asked me to give it to you so you could have it while we’re away.”

“From the kids?”

He nods.

“Something tells me it’s actually from you.”

“The other one is from me. You’ll get that one WHILE we’re away. It’s from the kids.” He opens the cupboard below the island and pulls out a small gift bag; adorned with unicorns and rainbows and glitter. “Millie picked that out by the way. In case you can’t tell.”

“That girl loves her glitter. And this from them? The kids?”

“Yup.”

“You’re lying, but okay…” She takes the bag from him and sets it on the counter. “What did you do?” she asks, as she pulls out a long, rectangular jewellery box.

“Just a little something. From the kids.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“Okay, it’s from me too. I’m the one who had to pay for it. But it was their idea.”

“You know I’m not good at surprises.”

“I know. You’re the worst person to buy stuff for. But it’s from your kids. They thought it up and they wanted you to have something pretty.”

She smiles. “They said that?”

He nods. “They said that mommy deserves pretty things and I agreed. So open it.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” she says, but snaps open the lid on the box. A piece of purple beach glass encased in an intricate cage of rose gold, and dangling from a chain of the same.

“Millie found it and wanted me to do something with it for you,” Tyler explains. “So I did.”

“It’s beautiful,” she turns her tear filled eyes towards him. “I love it. Thank you.”

He kisses her softly, face cradled in his palms. Her soft skin a striking contrast to the rough calluses on his palms and the tips of his fingers.

“You’re too good to me,” she declares.

“Sometimes I think I’m not good enough,” he admits.

“You’ve always been way more than someone like me deserves.”

“You’re full of shit,” he says, then kisses her forehead and takes the necklace from the box; stepping behind her to clasp it around her neck. “You like it?”

“I love it. It’s perfect. Our kids are perfect. YOU’RE perfect.”

“That last part? I dunno about that.”

“You’re perfect for me,” she says. “And that’s all that matters.”

[canaryrecords]

According to George Katsaros’s WWII draft registration, he was born April 3, 1898 in Trikala in western Thessaly, Greece. He arrived through Ellis Island alone on October 20, 1913, and his declared age at the time was 17, which would have meant he was born in 1896-7. His brother Harry (whose also WWII card as well as a 1930 border crossing document also give Thessaly as his place of birth) had preceded him and settled in the Detroit area. Their parents’ names were Kristos (Gustos) and Zoe.

Much of the information about Katsaros’ life that has circulated for decades, drawn from stories he told in the 1980s and 90s when he was an old man, including that he was born ten years earlier on the island of Amorgos with the surname Theologitis appears to be false. For reasons we haven’t ascertained, Katsaros was by then an untrustworthy narrator of his own life. Two serious studies of his biography and music have been undertaken - one in Greek by Panagiotis Kounadis (which, unfortunately, I have not been able to read because of the language barrier) and another in English by Steve Frangos. The interviews conducted by Frangos in 1985 (available through the site of the State Library and Archives of Florida) and that articles Frangos subsequently wrote based on on those interviews are an invaluable resource on Katsaros’s self-mythology and some of what follows in drawn from them.

Katsaros’s memories of his life were often highly detailed and therefore more or less verifiable. There are some vast craters in his narrative and some apparent fantastic invention. It seems reasonable to suppose that he is telling the truth that he was playing at a cafe called the Zapeion in New York around early 1917 when he had an opportunity to go to San Francisco to play at the Minerva and Acropolis Cafes, both on Folsom Street. The Minerva at the time widely promoted its family-friendly French dinners and 30 cent vegetarian lunches while, around the same time, being under close scrutiny by the police for underworld activity, resulting in the 1919 withdrawal of its liquor license after a fire and a drugging-and-theft incident there made the news in quick succession. Police found the cafe in violation of the wartime prohibition act.

Katsaros named no less than 16 towns in California where he played during the period 1917-18 and another dozen in Oregon, Washington, Utah, Montana, and Nevada in 1918-19. Performing a wide array of traditional Greek (and some Armenian) folk songs for audiences of agricultural workers, port workers, and miners, he spoke in generalities of this period, but the fact that he names specific venues (the Parthenon and the Aphrodite in Salt Lake City, for instance) and some bandmates, including cymbalom players Frank Gazis, who later recorded with violinist Demetrios Poggis, and Spiros Stamos, who later recorded for the Greek Record Company in Chicago, gives credence to his story. He bragged of earning $50 ($750 now) a night, often playing almost continuously from 7PM to 2AM. By 1920, he says, he was back east, playing at the Kentron Restaurant at 1018 Locust Street in Philadelphia. His claim of having been called to sign a 5 year contract with Victor Records in 1919 seems to be fabricated or at least unverifiable, as were his descriptions of a tours to Mumbai, India (via Australia, Burma, Singapore, and other locations) or his assertion of a 1924 trip to Algeria, Tunis, Morocco, Libya, Egypt, Ethiopia, and South Africa. "My records, they went all over the world," he said. "From every place in the United States and South America and Europe [...] they pay me and I take a boat and I go. Playing for the big concerrts. I play for the churches, for the rich people." But he hadn't actually made any records yet.

We can be sure of two significant events in the Summer of 1927. On June 6 and 16, he made his first recordings for Victor across the bridge from Philadelphia in Camden, New Jersey, resulting in his first issued disc, a 12” with the zeibekiko “Elleniki Apolausis (Greek Pleasure)” on one side and “A Kakoorga Eli (Cruel Hearted Elli)” on the flip. And then, at 29 years old, he married a 20 year old woman named Ouranea (b. Dec. 25 1907; d. April 28, 1984). Years later, she told a newspaper that she was the niece of Theodoros Pangelos who had become President of Greece in April 1925 in the aftermath of a coup, only to be deposed August 1926 in a counter-coup.

By June 24, 1928, George and Oura were in Michigan, where George’s brother Harry lived, for the birth of their first daughter Arete (Rita). During the onset and and deepening of the Great Depression four more children arrived there near Detroit - Steve (Jan. 13, 1930), Cleopatria (ca. 1933), James (ca. 1934), and Paul (April 23, 1936.) Parallel to the growth of their family, George made approximately annual trips to New Jersey, New York City, and Chicago to record. His memory in 1985 of the number of sides he made during that period is pretty close to the facts: 18 for Columbia and 36 for Victor, he said. In fact, he released 8 on Columbia and 33 for Victor as well as an additional 20 or so for Victor that were rejected and unissued. At present, we have evidence of one concert during that period, a fundraiser for the Women’s Organization for National Prohibition Reform under the auspices of a Greek organization in Detroit on December 1, 1931 along with a Greek soprano and pianist. A photo given by Katsaros to the researcher Pangiotis Kounadis in 1987 apparently depicts him with a friend in the early 1930s in Birmingham, England.

His reputation as a seminal force in the development of rebetika, the music of the Greek underworld, based on certain of his 1920s and 30s discs is only part of the story of what he did. The vast majority of what he recorded were his own compositions and many of them spoke plainly of the nightlife, of an empathic eye for modern women, a wicked confidence as a gambler, a powerful appetite for hashish, rough companions, and the hustling all of it entails. He also recorded songs that were comedic or deeply pathetic, as often in tango rhythms or with similarities to American songsters like Jimmie Rogers or Mexican conjunto as they were to the zeibekiko rhythms and quasi-Turkish tonalities of the rebetika demimonde that grew in Athens at the same time. Playing a spruce-topped Martin parlor guitar made in Nazareth, Pennsylvania, his songs were straight-shooting, deeply honest, and totally syncretic of his experience as a Greek-American. There is nothing Hellenistically “purist” about Katsaros’s records, but they are adamantly pure in their relationship to his own sense of himself. That is what made him so unique and, perhaps, what made him one of the very, very few Greek performers to have been able to continue to record at all during the 1930s in the U.S. The 1929 stock market crash had simply ended the recording careers of most the Greek-American performers on records, including for instance Marika Papagika, (with whom Katsaros said he worked in the 30s on the road and characterized as a "very very lovely singer and a very very good person") or made their performances feel like remnants of the “old world." It was Katsaros’ singular approach to his instrument and his plain-talking songwriting, as in his exhortation of Herbert Hoover at the end of his Depression ballad “With Pockets Empty” or his lament for the sick “Mother, I Have Tuberculosis [Consumption]” that gave his records such legs that they were regularly repressed, year after year into the 1940s.

Katsaros claimed to have recorded another 24 sides for Decca in the 1930s-40s, but we have no evidence of those having been released. We know that he made about 10 sides for the Gary, Indiana independent label Grecophone and then in the 1940s about six sides for the New York Metropolitan label (related to Adjin Asllan’s Balkan label) and four or more for Standard (run by Tetos Demetriades, who had previously been the head of the Foreign division of Victor in the 1930s and had championed Katsaros then).

In 1940 his family of seven was living in Wayne, Michigan in a heavily Polish neighborhood along with a 51 year old boarder, who, like George, was making $1,900 ($35,000 today) a year working six days a week as a switchman for the Grand Trunk Railroad between Six Mile and Nine Mile of Detroit. The census that year also counted them at another house in Tarpon Springs, Florida where a "John Katsaros" is listed as the head of the household was working as a driver. Katsaros spent the Summer of 1943 playing hotels in the Catskills - the Monte Carlo, the Olympia, and the Sunset. Performing was lucrative enough that he and Oura got their picture in the Detroit Free Press that November for having bought a total of $842 in War Bonds (about $12,500 today), and his occupation was mentioned as “nightclub performer.” But on February 7, 1945, they divorced. He was 46; she was 37. A few years earlier the German occupying forces in Athens had killed his mother for having hidden two American servicemen. Her house was burned. George’s sister Sophia survived and later emigrated to the U.S.

By 1950, he was living in Brighton, Massachusetts at 100 Washington Street. On his way home just before 5 in the morning in November, 1952 Katsaros was robbed at gunpoint. The two muggers grabbed $150 in small bills from his inner jacket pocket but, he said, neglected to check his pants, where he had another $2,000 in cash.

Meanwhile, back home, George and Oura’s eldest child was in the papers. Having been drafted in 1949 to the Korean war, he’d been called back for another year of service as an enlisted infantryman in 1950. On February 12, 1951 he was captured and held as a prisoner of war until August 1953. He was 23 years old when he was reunited with his mother and siblings, living at 2961 Hanley St in Hamtramck, Michigan, including his younger brother James who had also served in Korea. Every member of the family is mentioned in the press notices of his joyful return except for his father.

Katsaros worked in the late 50s in Chicago in Boston at the Club Zara at 475 Tremont St. According to researcher Amy E. Smith, the Club Zara might have had mob ties. On May 6, 1960, 25 days of police surveillance a resulted in the dispersal of a crowd of 300 people at midnight and the arrest of seven women (five of them dancers in their 20s) and five men (including the maitre d, the manager, and an Armenian singer) under charges of “participating in or contributing to an immoral show.” Whether Katsaros was present that night or was even still working there at the time, we don't know. He said in 1985 that he’d been one of its cofounders and took credit for hiring the club’s first bellydancer “Morocco.” The trial that resulted from the raid was a media circus, and all but one of those arrested was fined between $200 and $1500. Four of the dancers were given 3 to 6 months in prison. One dancer lost custody of her eight year old daughter. The club lost its liquor license. The District Attorney told the press “This is filth, real filth. It’s about time we get rid of that show.” If they’d been looking for evidence of underaged employees or other illegal activities, the catalyst for the raid was when one dancer’s bra straps snapped.

Whether or not Katsaros was still in Boston when the raid happened, by about 1962 he’d moved to Holiday, Florida near Tarpon Springs, a town founded in the 16th century as a Greek sponge fishing village. Through the 1960s, 70s, and 80s, he performed sporadically at Greek community events and restaurants, often with the accordion player John Gianaros whom he’d known since the 40s back in New York. Katsaros was getting old with several lifetimes’ worth of experiences and songs in the head, still covered in a thick pile of of kinky hair that he kept vainly under a net at home.

When a new generation of Greeks got hip to the 1920s-30s material of the old dope-smoking hipsters, they found him there in Florida. At 80-something years old, he wanted to know where the money was. In 1985, he asked Steve Frangos about how to collect royalties on his recordings from 50 years earlier or how to get a new record deal. In 1988, he traveled to Greece to perform and gave interviews. His old music was reissued. In March 1995, he was flown again to Greece to be honored by the Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs at a widely-broadcast concert and spoke and played for his countrymen (now available on YouTube).

When he died at home in Holiday, having outlived practically everyone who could have remembered him, on June 22, 1997 at the age of 99, newspapers around the world told an incredible story about 109 year old badass, a walking antique, who had been everywhere and done everything. Among them, the researcher Aydin Chaloupka noticed a mention in the Pappas Press that Katsaros had a birth certificate from Amorgos for one Yiorgos Theologitis born in 1888 that he'd had authenticated and showed visitors, letting them make copies of it. The story he told that his last name Katsaros was a stage name referring to his his hair ("katsaros" means "kinky" or "curly" in Greek) might hold true if his brother, a grocer in Detroit, didn't share the same name.

Why would Katsaros lie about his date and place of birth and go the trouble of obtaining someone else's birth certificate? We can only speculate, but it is not out of the question that there was something in his life that he did not want to catch up with him even as he attained some notoriety in the late 1980s. Perhaps is was the family he left behind in Detroit in the mid-40s. Perhaps it was the authorities for something he'd done (or felt he'd done) wrong. Perhaps it was some of the underworld characters he'd crossed paths with in the course of his career. Maybe the birth certificate was an insurance policy so that, if someone knocked on his door, he could say "you've got the wrong guy. I'm not George Katsaros, born 1897 in Thessaly. I'm Yiorgos Theologitis, born 1888 on Amorgos." Plausible deniability.

Something is true. But George Katsaros was probably not the person who would have told you.